The Bodyguard
by Luuuurve
Summary: Award winning fic! When Death Eaters murder Draco's mother, Draco jumps at the chance to avenge her. But he doesn't expect the Ministry to bind him, heart, body and soul, to Harry Potter. HPDM slash. HGRW. Post HBP. Replaces DH.
1. The Tiniest Drop of Pity

_** Author's Notes: **Warning, this slash fanfic contains plot. This may or may not render it suitable for your slashy needs. For it is a truth universally acknowledged, that occasionally, or perhaps all the time, the keen slash reader must be in want of porn without plot. (Who hasn't scrolled their way through the chapters of a long slash fic thinking, 'Come on, where's the sex?') For your plot-avoiding convenience, I will be marking certain future chapter titles with the word: Shagging! You know what to expect there...  
_

_Archiving is fine and reviews are welcome. In fact, they're compulsory. Go on! Click on that review link when you've finished reading, it won't take you a second!_

_Thank you to Isis for beta reading this chapter._

_The Bodyguard is the July 2007 Quill to Parchment Best Trio Era Fanfic Award Winner, Runner Up._

_**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and all the characters are copyright J.K. Rowling.  
_

_oOoOoOo  
_

**The Bodyguard **

**Chapter 1: The Tiniest Drop of Pity  
**

As he languished, manacled and bruised, in a Death Eater's cell, Harry's only positive thought was that Hermione and Ron were off chasing Hufflepuff's Cup in Cornwall and were thankfully well away from his current predicament. 

A lumpy-looking Death Eater sneered lopsidedly through the bars. "Comfortable Potter?"

"Frankly, Amycus, I'm not." Harry's manacles rattled on the dirty, stone floor. Breaking free would have been the work of a moment with his wand, but said item was currently in the hands of Amycus, who shook it and gave a wheezy laugh as he watched Harry struggle.

"Missing your wand, Potter? You'll get it back soon enough, when the Dark Lord arrives. I hear he plans to complete the death duel he started on his rebirth day."

"Ah, yes, the graveyard duel. How could I forget?" Harry's wrists and ankles were bleeding from his futile efforts to get free.

"Sit tight, Potter. It won't take long. In fact, I go to summon the Dark Lord right now," said Amycus. He looked over his shoulder. "Malfoy! Malfoy get here and watch Potter until the Dark Lord arrives."

Startled by the familiar name, Harry sat up, as far as his manacles allowed. Malfoy? Lucius Malfoy was in Azkaban. That only left Draco or Narcissa, his mother. The last time Harry had seen Draco was on the top of the Astronomy Tower at Hogwarts, trying (and failing) to murder Albus Dumbledore.

A figure wearing dark green robes, with slumped shoulders and a bowed, hooded head, appeared at the door and stopped, apparently uncertain or shocked. "Get a move on, Draco," snapped Amycus, and the figure stepped forward and slowly pushed back its hood, revealing a pale, pointed face and dirty, white-blond hair.

Harry stared. It was Draco, all right, but changed almost out of recognition. The last time Harry had seen him, he'd still had the familiar flash of pure-blood arrogance and pride, despite the greying skin and dark shadows under his eyes that months under the threat of death had given him.

The Draco in front of Harry now had no pride, and no hope. He'd lost a lot of weight and his robes flapped around him. His face was greyer than ever, his pale eyes sunken and dull. His face was marked with bruises and he stared at Harry with a blank look of despair and fear. Despite his own predicament, the tiniest drop of pity rose up in Harry. What had Voldemort and the Death Eaters done to Draco to reduce him to this state?

Amycus thumped Draco on the shoulder and the blow shook his thin frame. "Now listen, boy," said Amycus. "You keep watch on Potter here. It's a simple enough task for you and one you must get right. The Dark Lord is getting very tired of you. You failed to kill Dumbledore. You didn't kill a single Muggle on our Inferi making mission last week. Anyone would think you were a weak, Muggle-loving fool, and we know what happens to them, don't we? I said, DON'T WE MALFOY?"

The sudden shout snapped Draco's despairing gaze away from Harry and he looked up at Amycus with reddened eyes. "Yes, sir," he breathed.

"Good," snarled Amycus, striking Draco on the shoulder again. He reached into his robes, pulled out Harry's wand and handed it to Draco. "Take this and keep it until the Dark Lord arrives. This is your last chance, Draco. Fail me and you'll end up like your stinking mother." Cackling horribly, Amycus hobbled from the room.

Draco watched him leave. He ran his fingers up and down Harry's wand, as if fighting an urge to use it on the departing Death Eater.

Harry waited until Amycus's footsteps faded away before he spoke. "Hullo Malfoy," he whispered. It seemed strange to be talking to his old school rival under such circumstances. He expected Draco to gloat.

Draco turned and looked at him. After a moment, he said, "Potter, I can't believe you're here..." There was no sign of gloating on his face. Harry had never seen his rival look so defeated.

"What did they do to your ... I mean, is your mother all right?" asked Harry. He could remember Narcissa Malfoy from the Quidditch World Cup several years ago; a white-blonde woman who'd looked very much like her son.

"She's dead," said Draco simply. "My Aunt Bellatrix murdered her when she refused to kill Muggles last week. Shot her down like a dog. I didn't even get a chance to bury her. She's probably out there now - an Inferius." His voice became unsteady and he bowed his head.

Harry gaped at him. "That's awful! I'm sorry," he burst out without thinking. He straightened up and his manacles pulled tight.

Draco lifted his head and a trace of his old spirit and hatred came back into his eyes. "What do you care, Potter? You said my mother looked like she had dung under her nose, whenever I was around!" He pushed Harry's wand into his robes.

"Malfoy, I really AM sorry," said Harry. "What I said back then was stupid. Kid's stuff. This is serious. I know how you feel. I lost my mother too." He lowered his voice, checking towards the door to make sure no one else was listening. "I didn't want you or any of your family to suffer, Malfoy. Dumbledore wouldn't have wanted it. I saw what happened on the Astronomy Tower."

Draco blinked at him. "You can't have. I was up there alone with Dumbledore," he said with alarm.

"I was there under my invisibility cloak. There were two broomsticks, remember?" said Harry.

Very slowly, Draco nodded.

"Dumbledore froze me so I couldn't intervene. I saw what happened. How you couldn't bring yourself to kill Dumbledore. How he offered to help you, hide you," Harry went on.

Glancing back at the door himself, Draco stepped closer to the bars. "Dumbledore offered my family sanctuary," he said in a soft, bitter voice. "How I wish I'd had time to take it. My mother would still be alive."

Harry said nothing, but looked at Draco with sympathy. The Slytherin cut a lonely figure. Everything in his world had changed beyond recognition. Nobody knew better than Harry what that felt like.

Biting his lip, Draco crouched down. It took him a moment to speak, as if he were trying to pluck up the courage, "Is it true you're the Chosen One?" he whispered.

"Yes, it's true," said Harry. He felt tired and sore. The Death Eater attack had come out of the blue in Godric's Hollow and he had had only hours to recover since then. Now he was faced with certain death within an hour. He doubted Voldemort would let him escape this time.

"The only one who can defeat ... You Know Who?" persisted Draco. His face was paler than ever under his bruises, but his grey eyes glittered.

"Voldemort?" Harry watched Draco flinch. "Yes," Harry went on in a dull voice. "That's supposed to be me. I am the Chosen One."

Draco grasped the bars and pushed his face between them, crouching down further until their heads were level. "Harry," he whispered fiercely. "The death duel will be against the Dark Lord and at least fifty Death Eaters. You won't stand a chance." There was no triumph or gloating in his voice, only concern bordering on panic.

Harry had never heard Draco use his first name before. He took a deep breath and tried to sound braver than he felt. "I had to manage against fifty Death Eaters last time. I'll run away-"

"You won't. The duel will be held underground, with apparition wards. They'll chase you around the room until they kill you, Harry." Draco's voice rose in panic and he squeezed the bars so hard his hands went white.

"The Order will save me."

But Draco shook his head. "They won't. I hear they're mustering an attack, but it will take them time to fight their way underground and by then you'll be dead."

Harry tugged uselessly at his manacles. "I'll manage. I'll have to manage." He ruefully arched an eyebrow at Draco, "It would help if I had my wand right now."

He had meant it as a joke and expected a sneering reply, but he didn't get one. A frozen look came over Draco's face. "They'd kill me."

"I'm sorry," Harry said quietly, looking into frightened grey eyes. "I'm really sorry but haven't you realised they're going to kill you anyway? It's just a matter of time."

Draco shook his head frantically, his eyes reddening. "No, they can't. They mustn't."

"You plan to tell Voldemort he mustn't?" Draco flinched at the name, as though struck, and Harry felt a pang of sympathy. In a much gentler voice, using his rival's name for the first time, Harry said: "Draco, you're not cut out for this. You can talk the talk," He frowned at the memory of Draco calling Hermione a 'Mudblood'. "Oh yes, you can definitely talk the talk. But you can't walk the walk. You're not a killer, Draco. Not a Death Eater."

Draco bit his lip. "That's what Dumbledore said up on the Tower. He was right. I can't do this, Harry. It's nothing like..." He took a deep breath to steady himself. "Nothing like I thought it would be."

"You thought you'd be a part of a group of pure-blood heroes when you're actually part of a group of filthy, murdering thugs!" Harry regretted his outburst immediately, when Draco's eyes flashed anger and he let go of the bars.

"Is that what Perfect Potter thinks?" Draco spat. "The Chosen One who thinks he'll take on the Dark Lord and fifty followers all at once but can't even manage Occlumency? Oh, yes. I heard about you," he said as Harry stirred angrily on the floor. "Trying to fight off Amycus in Godric's Hollow. He knew every spell you were aiming at him, before you'd even fired them off! You were useless, Harry. The Chosen One needs a bodyguard."

Harry bit back the retort he was readying. Since they had been talking, Draco's face had come alive. His eyes were bright, and his straight, white teeth bared. The beginnings of a smile tweaked the corners of Harry's mouth. "All right," he said.

"All right, what?"

Glancing at the door, Harry dropped his voice to a whisper again. "I was going to offer you sanctuary, just like Dumbledore offered you, if you give me my wand. But if you want to volunteer to be my bodyguard, that's even better."

Draco's mouth dropped open and his jaw wagged a few times, as if he'd lost the power of speech. "You're mad," he finally managed. "Why would I risk my life to be your bodyguard?"

"To avenge your mother," whispered Harry, his face solemn. "To make up for some of the wrongs you have done as a Death Eater. To join a group that really ARE heroes and receive the acclaim you've been looking for your whole life." He watched Draco consider. The Slytherin was trembling and held onto the bars to steady himself. Sweat glistened on his forehead and he was breathing fast.

Almost to himself, Draco said softly: " I hate you. I always have-"

"Keep hating me, Draco," whispered Harry. "It's all the same to me. But join me. We can help each other..." He held out a hand, as far as the manacles would allow, and remembered a time, so many years ago, when Draco had extended his hand in friendship and he'd refused. He could see Draco remembered it too. The frightened, wavering look in Draco's eyes slowly hardened, then softened, and finally, he gave a watery smile and a small nod. Glancing back over his shoulder one last time, he reached into his robes, pulled out Harry's wand, and passed it, handle first, through the bars.

Harry grasped it in triumph.


	2. Stay Close

_**Author's Note: **Thank you to Isis for the beta job._

oOoOoOo_  
_

**The Bodyguard**

**Chapter 2: Stay Close**

A surge of confidence went through Harry as his fingers closed around his wand. Silencio! he thought, then touched his wand to the manacles. They fell silently to the floor. Stiff and cramped, he got to his feet. 

On the other side of the bars Draco stood up and backed away, as if unable to believe what he had done.

Alohomora! Harry thought, pointing his wand at the cell door, which clicked and flew open.

Draco's face was frozen with fear, but he didn't reach for his wand.

Harry spared him a smile, reached into his robes and pulled out his invisibility cloak from a secret pocket, which thankfully Amycus hadn't found. He beckoned. "Come on Draco, get underneath. We need to leave."

The frozen look of horror changed to amazement. "You're serious?" asked Draco, his voice dangerously loud with surprise.

"Shh!" whispered Harry. "Of course I'm serious. Did you think I was just making all that up just to get out of the cell and I'm going to kill you now?"

Draco looked worried. "Maybe you are."

"You're such a Slytherin, Draco." Harry fought the urge to laugh.

"I had to do it," said Draco quietly. "I had to get you out of there. Even if you were going to kill me, I had to give you a chance."

Harry stared at him. "I've changed my mind. You're not Slytherin, you're Gryffindor after all." The look of horror on Draco's face made Harry grin and he tossed half the cloak over the Slytherin's head. "I'm not going to kill you. I'll look after you, I promise." He slipped an arm around Draco's waist and felt him tense. "We need to stay close," Harry explained, not letting go. "Otherwise the cloak won't be big enough to cover us both, and we need to get out of here without being seen - fast!"

"I know the way," said Draco. His voice was unsteady and Harry could feel him trembling.

"Wands at the ready then. I'll follow you," said Harry.

oOoOoOo

Slipping out of the cell proved to be the easiest part. The dripping, labyrinthine passages (part of an old sewer, Harry guessed) were dimly lit with candles and treacherously slippery. But worst of all, they thronged with Death Eaters, and rang with their malicious laughter and heavy footsteps. Many times, Harry and Draco had to flatten themselves to the wall as black robed, white masked figures lumbered by. 

Harry gripped his wand. If Dumbledore could see through the cloak, surely Voldemort could too, and if they were spotted, they were dead. He glanced at Draco beside him. The Slytherin's face was waxen, and running with sweat. Harry gave him a smile and he smiled nervously in return. But then they both tensed and a stab of pain went through Harry's scar.

Many footsteps and a high, cold voice could be heard in the darkness ahead.

"Amycus, I trust everything is in readiness?"

"Of course, my Lord," came Amycus's fawning reply. "We only await your presence."

oOoOoOo

_**Author's Notes:** I'm looking forward to your comments. Especially if they're positive! ;-)_


	3. Hand In Hand

**The Bodyguard **

**Chapter 3: Hand In Hand**

Harry and Draco glanced at each other in horror. There was a dark, seemingly little-used side branch on their left and they slipped into it without a sound, hurrying along until a corner hid them from view. They pressed their backs against the wall.

Draco squeezed his eyes shut, and tipped his face up as if in silent prayer, much the same as he had when Hermione had put her wand to his throat several years before.

The footsteps grew louder, until they were right beside Harry and Draco's corridor.

"This must go to plan, Amycus" came Voldemort's cold voice. "Harry Potter must die. I tire of the incompetence my Death Eaters have shown."

"You needn't worry, my Lord," Amycus wheezed. "Young Draco is guarding the prisoner as we speak."

"He'd better be," said Voldemort, his voice curt and merciless. "If he fails me tonight, he'll go the way of his precious mother."

Draco turned his head towards Harry with a look of hopeless despair. I'm dead, he mouthed silently.

Harry shook his head. He couldn't speak. All he could do was reach down and give Draco's hand a reassuring squeeze. Draco squeezed back like a drowning man grasping a lifeboat.

The footsteps and Voldemort's cold voice faded into the distance. Harry caught his breath in relief. He tugged on Draco's hand and they both peeked around the corner. There was no one there. Cautiously, they walked back to the main tunnel, still hand in hand.

They had only gone a few steps when Draco looked suspicious, and drew his wand. He flicked it, apparently testing the air.

"What are you doing?" whispered Harry. The tunnel seemed empty, but Draco was acting as though they were walking into a trap.

"There's a magical barrier nearby," said Draco, taking slow, cautious steps forward. His wand quivered. "Stop. I've found it."

Harry froze. Something was making the hairs on the back of his neck rise. Instinctively, he knew Draco was right. "What kind of barrier?"

Draco's wand flicked again. Harry saw his shoulders slump in despair. "A Dark Mark barrier."

"A what?"

"Only those with Dark Marks can pass through, Harry." Draco swore, very softly. "Amycus placed this, I can feel it."

Harry remembered how the Order of the Phoenix had dealt with the barrier up on the Astronomy Tower that had only let Death Eaters pass through. "We'll have to smash down the walls around the-"

"No!" Draco interrupted. "Typical that you'd think of the brute force method, Harry," he added, with the trace of a sneer. "If you smash the walls, you may as well shout out 'Harry Potter is escaping!' The Death Eaters will come running."

Harry thought hard. "Can you deactivate the barrier?"

"Yes, but the only reason anyone would take it down is to let someone without a Dark Mark through, and the only person here without one is YOU!"

"Then how-"

"Let me think, Harry," whispered Draco firmly.

Harry waited. Every instinct shouted at him to smash down the barrier and make a run for it, but somehow he couldn't move. There was something fascinating about Draco's thoughtful face, and the strange glitter in his pale eyes.

It could only have been a few moments later, but it felt like several days, when the corners of Draco's lips twitched. "I've got an idea. Pull your left sleeve down."

Harry fumbled with his sleeve, but not fast enough for Draco, who reached out with both hands and helped him. His fingers brushed Harry's skin and the Gryffindor shivered as an unexpected tingle ran through his body.

Draco noticed. "What?" he asked.

"Your hands are cold," said Harry, wondering why he was blushing.

Frowning slightly, but saying nothing, Draco yanked down his own sleeve and pressed his forearm tightly against Harry's, before Harry had a chance to see his Mark.

Warm skin met warm skin, and Harry actually jumped slightly at the touch, and pulled back. "What are you doing?"

"Trying to fool the barrier," whispered Draco impatiently. "It looks for a Dark Mark on the left arm. If we press our left arms together, my Dark Mark might be enough for both of us."

At the thought of touching a Dark Mark, Harry shuddered in disgust, and felt his blush fade. So Draco was Marked? That vindicated all of his Sixth Year suspicions. With an effort, he turned his mind back to the issue at hand. "I don't know much about barriers, but it could work," he admitted, offering his left arm. Draco entwined their fingers and pressed their forearms tightly together. Then he drew Harry towards the invisible barrier.

It was a tense moment. Harry waited for the barrier to activate, to reject him. They took step after step. Harry gritted his teeth.

Then Draco whispered, "It worked. We're through."

Somehow, Harry couldn't bring himself to release Draco's hand. Still hidden under the cloak, they walked until Harry could see a rusty, barred door, with two masked Death Eaters on either side.

This is it, Draco mouthed.

Leads outside? Harry mouthed back.

Draco nodded.

I'll take the one on the left, you the one on the right. Silent spells, Harry mouthed.

Draco rolled his eyes a little, as if to say, 'What else?'

Harry nodded and raised his wand.

Moments later they were running through deserted London streets filled with derelict buildings, still hand in hand under the cloak. The smell of fresh night air hit Harry and he almost shouted aloud with joy. They ran until they could run no further and then they stopped, bent almost double with their hands on their knees, gasping for breath.

The cloak began to slip. Draco grabbed at it. "We can't stop here," he whispered frantically. "It's not safe. We have to Apparate-" A movement caught his eye, "Oh no! Protego!"

"Stupefy!" came a shout and to Harry's horror, Draco slumped against him, unconscious. A brilliant rain of spells bounced off the shield spell Draco had cast around Harry, but not himself. The cloak slid to the ground entirely. Harry raised his own shield spell - too late for Draco - and stared around at the darkness, holding up his rescuer's limp form with one arm.

oOoOoOo

_**Author's Notes:** You'd better review, or I'll make sure Harry and Draco suffer! Bwahahaha! ;-) _

_**Replies to the comments so far:**  
_

_T.Felton: I'm glad you like the story. I will be continuing it and I'll update soon._

_NinjaoftheDarkness: As you can see, they did get out of the Death Eater den, but it's a case of out of the frying pan and into the fire for Draco and Harry._

_SuperSquash: I'm interested in how the Order of the Phoenix will react to Draco too. Dumbledore would have trusted him, I'm sure, and Harry will carry on Dumbledore's legacy of trust. But Harry, sadly, is not a high-ranking Order member due to his age. Draco angst is guaranteed!_

_Ann: Thanks! Once I get going with writing, I tend to produce a lot all at once so quick updates can be expected. The fact that the NaNoWriMo is on also helps._

_Potter's Wifey: Thanks, I'm glad you like it!_

_Diane23: Thanks! I do respect the HP books and I'm trying to show it by sticking to the JKR convention of writing from Harry's rather blinkered and clueless teenage boy point of view. I'm relying on the readers to spot angst and conniving manipulative Slytherin behaviour from Draco, that Harry doesn't even notice!_

_Demonic Reivun: High praise. Thank you very much!_

_Rinkurocks: LOL! It's strange to think that the mere act of spelling and grammar checking a fanfic is a rare and impressive feat! I hope I can keep Draco in character for you. How would you describe Draco's character?_

_Miko23: Thank you! Wuv u 2!_


	4. Promises

**The Bodyguard**

**Chapter 4: Promises**

His heart thudding in his chest, Harry waited for the next attack. Then...

"Wotcher, Harry!"

The bubblegum pink head of Tonks rose up from behind a fence. Kingsley's bald head shone as he stepped out from behind a tree. Ten other figures appeared from their hiding places; a mixture of Order members and Ministry Aurors.

Too relieved to speak, Harry lowered his wand.

"Thank Merlin you escaped!" exclaimed Kingsley. He came closer and pointed his wand at the unconscious body in Harry's arms. "Who is that?"

"Draco Malfoy," said Tonks, before Harry could open his mouth. "He's my cousin but I've had nothing to do with him. He and his parents are Death Eaters."

Kingsley tensed, and Harry felt himself rushing to Draco's defence. The unconscious body was surprisingly light in his arms - far too thin for a teenage boy - and it spurred Harry's sense of pity and obligation, along with the memory of Draco's selfless acts that night. "He saved me!" Harry said. "Draco got me out of that Death Eater den, and he cast a shield spell around me. You saw that."

"I did," said Kingsley. He was still looking at Draco with suspicion.

A Ministry Auror lumbered over from behind a garbage bin. He was an ill-favoured man, with scars running over his cheeks and only fleshy tatters where his ears should have been. He held a stubby, pale wand in a hairy, gorilla-like fist. "Whatever he's done for you, Potter, it doesn't make up for the fact he's Death Eater filth. He'll go before the Wizengamot and rot in Azkaban with the rest of them."

The Auror's voice was as harsh and damaged as his face and Harry disliked him instantly. "I won't let Draco go to Azkaban," he replied.

"Really, Chosen One?" the Auror sneered, the last two words heavily laced with scorn.

"Draco Malfoy promised to be my bodyguard, and so far he's kept his word. Now it's my turn to keep mine," said Harry. The Auror loomed intimidatingly over him, but he didn't step back.

"Now Barnes," said Kingsley warningly. He glanced at Harry. "This is Barnes, Harry. The Ministry's new Chief Auror." 

"Pleasure to meet you, sir," said Harry, though his tone suggested quite the opposite.

Barnes glared back with undisguised contempt, then turned to Kingsley. "The Chosen One is a CHILD," he snarled. "Who else but a child would trust a Death Eater?"

"That was uncalled for, Barnes. Harry's young but he's had more experience fighting the Dark Arts than most adults," said Kingsley. Subtly he raised his wand. Tonks moved to his side and also glared at Barnes, who drew himself up.

"My job is to protect the Chosen One, on behalf of the Ministry. You think I'd let him use a Death Eater," Barnes spat on the ground. "As a bodyguard? If I did I wouldn't be doing my job. This Death Eater goes in front of the Wizengamot in the morning. That's my final word, and as Chief Auror, I have the authority to take the prisoner by force."

Harry glanced around. Barnes not only had the authority, but the numbers. There were more Ministry Aurors here than Order members. A cold feeling of dread went through Harry, and he instinctively pulled Draco closer, knowing he was going to be snatched away. But he wasn't about to back down without a fight.

"Is that so, Barnes?" said Harry coldly. "If you do manage to take Draco, and he goes before Wizengamot, then I expect to be allowed to speak on his behalf."

"You'll get your chance," Barnes sniffed. "But I wouldn't count on keeping him out of Azkaban. Not unless you can convince everyone that he's entirely trustworthy."

"Look!" cried Tonks, and pointed back where Harry and Draco had come from. Everyone turned.

In the distance, a blazing, green skull, with a snake slithering through its mouth, had appeared in the sky.

"Looks like He Who Must Not Be Named has discovered you're gone, Harry, and has delivered a little instant justice," said Kingsley.

"Amycus. I bet he's killed Amycus," said Harry, exhaustion creeping into his voice. The last few horrible hours were taking their toll on him, and it seemed that even though he and Draco had escaped, they were not safe. Harry's legs ached, and his arms were almost numb. Slowly, he slid to the ground, cradling Draco protectively. The threatening green light shining down from Lord Voldemort's hideous symbol made everyone look the same, Aurors, Order members and Death Eaters alike.

oOoOoOo

**_Author Notes:_**

_So, what do you think so far? Please comment!_

**_Replies to previous comments:_**

_NinjaoftheDarkness: Mmm, I love chocolate! Thanks. ;-) SuperSquash: Plenty more angsty goodness coming your way. firefly12: Yes, Draco's not a happy boy at the moment! Actually, he's not even a conscious boy at the moment. gbheart: Thanks, I will update soon. liz: Thank you for your very nice comment. I hope the rest of the story lives up to your expectations. The Earth Mystic: Draco survived, but his problems have only just begun! Miko23: Thanks!_


	5. The Dungeon Door

**The Bodyguard**

**Chapter 5: The Dungeon Door**

The next morning. Harry waited impatiently in the Ministry of Magic outside the dungeon courtroom. The grimy dark door with its immense iron lock was closed. It brought back bad memories of the last time he had attended a Wizengamot. Then, he had been defending himself against a charge of underage magic. Now he was witness for the defence of Draco Malfoy.

"I have no idea why you're going through with this, Harry," said Remus Lupin. He was so shabbily dressed that Harry could see his shoulders through tears in his robes.

"Remus has a point, Harry. You're hardly the best of friends with Draco Malfoy. Why are you sticking your neck out for him?" growled Mad-Eye Moody. His blue, magical eye swivelled in its socket, taking in Harry and the closed door.

Even Harry wasn't quite sure why he was so drawn to protect Draco, though he was loath to admit it. Though his memories of Draco's casual nastiness were clear in his head, somehow, the thought of his schoolboy rival suffering in Azkaban caused a strange ache deep in his chest. But all Harry said aloud was, "Draco's just a stupid kid. He doesn't deserve Azkaban."

"Some would say just being a Death Eater is enough," said Lupin.

"It shouldn't be enough," said Harry angrily. "The Ministry put Sirius Black away for years and he was innocent. They did the same for Stan Shunpike. Now the Ministry is doing it again! Draco hasn't killed anyone. He hasn't done anything to deserve death, but if he ends up in Azkaban he'll be dead within a year just like poor Stan. Where's the justice?"

"Sadly lacking at the Wizengamot, Harry," said Lupin. "You're a good kid, Harry, but you'll need all your powers of persuasion if you want to save Draco from Azkaban."

Harry sighed and looked at the floor. At that moment, he felt he HAD no powers of persuasion. "I wish Dumbledore were here," he said. He frowned, remembered Draco's role, however slight, in Dumbledore's death. But then he remembered the forgiveness on Dumbledore's face towards Draco, that night on the Astronomy Tower. Whatever Draco had done, or tried to do, Dumbledore would never have left him to die in Azkaban.

"We all wish Albus was still around, Harry," said Mad-Eye gruffly.

"Where can Hermione be?"

"She probably hasn't gotten your owl yet. She and Ron were searching underground last I heard," said Lupin gently.

Mad-Eye's magic eye spun. "Here comes the prisoner," he growled.

Harry turned. At the far end of the rough stone, torch-lit corridor, he could see two huge, cloaked Aurors walking towards them and holding the arms of a chained prisoner with white-blond hair - Draco Malfoy. Harry broke into a run. He wanted to speak to Draco before he was dragged before the Wizengamot.

Up close, Draco looked even worse than he had in the Death Eater den. Harry had been able to go back to the Order's new headquarters to sleep, shower, eat and be healed. The Ministry had clearly not extended similar courtesy to their newest Death Eater prisoner. Draco looked tired and haggard; his face was stained with tears, and still covered in unhealed bruises. Streaks of fresh blood ran down the left side of his face from a cut on his forehead. His grey eyes were haunted. He looked nothing like the proud, spoiled, finicky-clean boy he had been at Hogwarts and Harry felt an ache in his chest that he decided was sympathy.

"Harry!" Draco gasped in amazement. The Aurors were still dragging him along at top speed, though he could barely walk.

Harry had to hurry to keep up with them. "Draco," he said.

Draco seemed lost for words for a moment, but he quickly gathered himself. "So glad … we could speak ... before Azkaban," he choked out. He was forced twist around to keep Harry in view as the Aurors pushed past, "I was thinking about you all last night. I woke up in a cell. Why'd you let them put me there?"

"The Aurors took you away. I tried to stop them," panted Harry, hurrying after them.

Draco stared at Harry frantically with red-rimmed, grey eyes, and his voice was a ragged shout, "Harry, I have to tell you ... it's my last chance ... sorry, Harry! I'm so sorry ... what I did to you at school-"

Harry was speechless. He stumbled to a halt, and stared at Draco.

Draco struggled against the Aurors as they reached the dungeon door, "Stop!" he said, with a trace of pure-blood imperiousness. Then his tone became frantic. "I need to speak to Harry! I'll never see him again! He promised he'd-"

"Shut up, Death Eater," snarled one of them. The other one twisted his fingers into the white-blond hair at the back of Draco's head and slammed Draco's forehead into the door. Draco howled in pain.

Harry realised right away why Draco's face had been covered in blood. "Hey-" he began angrily. But neither of the Aurors even glanced at him as they pulled a dazed and stumbling Draco away from the door and grabbed his arms again. One of the Aurors turned the dungeon door handle.

Draco turned his head and body as much as the Aurors would allow. Blood was now trickling down the right side of his face as well as the left. He shouted back over his shoulder. "We should have been friends ... goodbye Harry, I'm so sorry!" Then he was out of shouting range, but Harry had already read the rest of Draco's words in his eyes - 'Please, save me!'

The courtroom dungeon door opened and Harry could see the horribly familiar dark stone walls, dimly lit by torches, and the row upon row of benches, where shadowy figures wearing plum coloured robes sat. The Aurors dragged Draco to the chair in the middle of the room and flung him into it. The chains on the chair glowed golden, snaked up and wrapped themselves around terrified teenage boy in a flash. Then the Aurors walked to the side of the room and waited.

The door was slowly sliding shut. Harry looked at Draco, trapped and struggling in the chair and felt a sense of hopelessness rise up. Draco's unexpected, undreamt of apology was still ringing in his ears. He remembered how intimidated, even without the chains, he had felt sitting in that chair himself: the cold rows of faces, the brusque pronouncements and how he had utterly failed to defend himself. If it hadn't been for Dumbledore ... if only Dumbledore were here now!

In that moment, the meaning of the words, 'Dumbledore will only truly be gone when no one is loyal to him' hit Harry for the first time. I need Dumbledore but I can't bring him back to life, Harry thought. But I can be loyal to him - in my actions. Harry remembered Dumbledore's cool poise, his impeccable manners on all occasions, even when facing death, his intelligence, kindness and persuasiveness. I can be like that, Harry thought. I WILL be like that. I must...

Inside the courtroom, Rufus Scrimgeour's voice rang out. "Criminal hearing, tenth of July. Draco Malfoy, you have been brought here before the Council of Magical Law for the heinous crime of being a member of the murderous, criminal gang: the Death Eaters."

Hisses and boos came from the cloaked figures on the benches.

Draco cringed back in his chains, utterly petrified.

"Interrogators: Rufus Scrimgeour, Minister for Magic; Dolores Jane Umbridge, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement; Percy Ignatius Weasley, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister-"

There were gasps as Harry thrust the door fully open, and strode into the room. He could hear whispers of "The Chosen One!" running around the benches. Scrimgeour fell silent and stared at Harry opened mouthed.

"Witness for the defence: Harry James Potter," said Harry. His voice was low, but everyone in the room heard him.

oOoOoOo

_**Author's Notes:** It's that time again - time to beg for comments. Pleeeeeease, comment! Feedback is so inspiring. ;-)_

**_Replies to comments:_**

_ItsaMiracle: I'm very flattered that you're hooked. Thank you very much! I hope I can keep you hooked. ;-) PhoenixxStarr: Thanks! Harry will be trying to persuade the Wizengamot not send Draco to Azkaban - in the next chapter. DestinyEntwinements. ;-) NinjaoftheDarkness: Barnes is up to more than he even appears to be at the moment. See the next chapter! Oooh, Draco plushie, thank you! Sirius' widow: Thank you! I hope to see you commenting again. ;-) SuperSquash: Thanks, I'm writing quickly at the moment. Draco wasn't very happy when he woke up and found Harry wasn't there, but he pulled himself together when he saw Harry outside the courtroom. Did you notice anything manipulative going on? ;-) Potter's Wifey: The Head Auror is FOUL. Wait until you see what he's got planned._


	6. Wizengamot

**The Bodyguard**

**Chapter 6: Wizengamot**

Everyone in the dungeon courtroom stared at Harry in amazement, especially Draco, whose eyes shone, as though he were gazing at his guardian angel. Harry gave him what he hoped was a reassuring smile, and then he composed his face and looked around the room.

Nothing much had changed from the last time Harry had been there. Scrimgeour's rangy, lion-like figure had replaced Cornelius Fudge as Minister for Magic. Umbridge and Percy Weasley had been promoted (Harry was careful not to shoot them both a glare of dislike) but otherwise the courtroom was the same. The fifty plum-robed people on the benches stared down at him, some looking surprised, but many others furious.

"Mr Potter, let me get this straight. You ... you of all people, are speaking on behalf of a Death Eater?" asked Scrimgeour. He glared down from his podium in the middle of the seats.

"Indeed, Mr Scrimgeour. Draco Malfoy saved my life yesterday at great personal risk. He should not be sent to Azkaban," said Harry, keeping his voice polite, but firm. He wondered how Dumbledore would have handled this.

A mutter of surprise went around the courtroom. Harry saw Umbridge's toad-like face grimace.

"Explain yourself, Mr Potter," said Scrimgeour harshly.

Harry did at length, telling the entire courtroom the story of the night before and putting particular emphasis on Draco's heroism. He knew everyone was listening, for they flinched when he mentioned Voldemort's name.

"While in the cell, I promised Draco Malfoy that if he gave me my wand, I would let him be my bodyguard. I am here now to claim him so he can make good on his promise," Harry finished. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a tear trickle down Draco's battered, weary face. Looking away in embarrassment, Harry spotted Barnes, sitting behind Umbridge, and gave him a nod. Barnes only narrowed his eyes, and leaned forward to whisper in Umbridge's ear.

There was silence for a moment, and then everyone in the courtroom started speaking at once. Above the hubbub, Harry heard Percy Weasley's pompous voice. "You do understand, Mr Potter, that being a Death Eater carries a life sentence in Azkaban without parole and there is no doubt at all that Draco Malfoy is a Death Eater?"

"Mr Weasley, Draco Malfoy WAS a Death Eater. But he saved my life and I am vouching for the fact that Draco Malfoy is now no more a Death Eater than I am," said Harry courteously, trying not to remember that he'd once considered Percy a friend.

"I supposed you think that being the Chosen One gives you the right to force the Wizengamot's decision? Such arrogance, Mr Potter," said Percy with the trace of a sneer. He glanced around the courtroom, obviously waiting for laughs of derision.

He wasn't disappointed. Harry stifled a wince, as sharp, cruel laughter came from every corner of the room. He kept the calm look on his face with difficulty. "The Wizengamot's decision-" Harry began. But Percy cut him off.

"Perhaps, and this would be very generous on the part of the Wizengamot, Draco Malfoy's sentence could be reduced from one hundred and fifty years to one hundred-" Percy began, but he was interrupted in turn by a loud, girlish giggle from Umbridge by his side. She was engaged in a whispering conversation with Barnes, who was chuckling nastily.

"Would you like to share what is so amusing?" Scrimgeour asked, frowning at his toad-like second in command.

"I beg your pardon, Mr Scrimgeour," said Umbridge, in the fluttery, girlish, high-pitched voice Harry despised so much. "I was merely having a teensy discussion with my colleague here about a certain spell we have been working on. A spell that would allow the Chosen One to use this Death Eater as a bodyguard after all."

Harry kept his face carefully neutral but he couldn't help stroking the scar on the back of his hand, where Umbridge had made him carve 'I must not tell lies'. When she saw Harry touch the scar, Umbridge gave Harry a smile that looked more like a vicious leer.

"Well, let's hear about this spell. The Chair recognises Dolores Umbridge, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement," said Scrimgeour impatiently.

Umbridge leaned forward and simpered at the room as a whole. "As I'm sure all of you know, in my new position as Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Mr Barnes and I been experimenting with the Unbreakable Vow. We have worked, ever so hard, on closing every loophole using Muggle legal language so that the Vow taker cannot possibly wiggle out of being entirely ... faithful." She gave a silvery laugh and Harry fought the urge to shudder. He concentrated on the image of Dumbledore's kind, majestic face in his head and felt himself regain control.

"I see," said Scrimgeour. "You're saying that we can make Draco Malfoy swear allegiance to Harry Potter, using your Unbreakable Vow, and actually be able to trust him? Draco Malfoy, that is," he added with a smirk, causing more cruel laughter.

Harry didn't let his polite smile shift in the slightest. "I thought the way to make someone trustworthy, Mr Scrimgeour, was to trust them back. Perhaps you should try it?"

Scrimgeour frowned. The laughter from the Wizengamot was now aimed at him.

Simpering foully, and ignoring Harry, Umbridge said, "Yes, how very clever of you, Minister. That is exactly what I mean."

"I'll take it!" shouted Draco.

Harry turned to face Draco in alarm and spoke softly so that no one else in the room could hear. "Be careful, Draco," he warned. "We don't know enough about this Vow yet. You don't know what you're agreeing to."

"It will keep me out of Azkaban," whispered Draco, his eyes wide and desperate. "I don't mind Vowing to be your bodyguard, Harry. I already promised."

"I know, but I don't want it to be forced on you by magic and I want to know what Umbridge is up to this time." Harry frowned at Draco as he remembered Fifth Year at Hogwarts. "You worked in her Inquisitional Squad. You should know as well as I do that she's a colossal b-"

He was interrupted by Scrimgeour's loud voice. "Mr Potter, would you care to share your thoughts with the entire courtroom instead of just the Death Eater?"

Harry straightened, set his face back into a smile, and turned around to face the sniggering courtroom. "Congratulations on your new position, Professor Umbridge," he said politely. Inwardly, he marvelled at his own self-control. Given a choice, he would have preferred to transfigure Umbridge into the toad she so closely resembled. "Thank you for your suggestion, but I, like Dumbledore before me, I would prefer to rely on trust, rather than use magic to bend another person to my will."

Harry knew right away that he'd said the wrong thing when gasps and cruel, mocking laughter could be heard all around the courtroom.

Scrimgeour stared down at Harry. "Albus Dumbledore was murdered by Severus Snape, the very Death Eater for whom he vouched for here."

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Draco squirming in his seat. To Harry's eyes, he seemed overcome with sudden guilt by the mention of his old Head of Slytherin house.

"A mere promise and sob story are not enough to guarantee a Death Eater's loyalty," said Percy pompously. "Draco Malfoy should die in Azkaban."

Harry bit his lip as cries of agreement could be heard everywhere. He was just about to speak up in Draco defence, when Scrimgeour spoke.

"This new kind of Unbreakable Vow, on the other hand." Scrimgeour looked at Umbridge, "Are you sure it absolutely guarantees loyalty?"

"It does, Minister, and I'm simply DYING to try it out. Please do me this little favour," Umbridge simpered. Muttering could be heard all around the courtroom. In the midst of it, Umbridge looked at Harry, the simper on her lips not quite reaching her eyes. "Tell me Potter, do you have a girlfriend?" she asked unexpectedly.

"I ... no, we broke up," said Harry truthfully, thrown by the question.

"How sad," said Umbridge. She leered at Harry as though he were a fly she was about to gobble up. Harry had a powerful sense of foreboding.

"May I ask what bearing Potter's personal life has on the trial?" asked Scrimgeour, his expression stormy.

Umbridge smiled at Scrimgeour in a way she possibly intended to be sweet. "Just chatting with my old school pupil. Please carry on, Minister."

"Very well." Scrimgeour turned to the rows of wizards. "Those in favour of performing the new Vow on Draco Malfoy and making him Harry James Potter's bodyguard?"

"No! Wait! Stop! You can't order the vote now!" shouted Harry.

Scrimgeour acted as if Harry were inaudible. "Your votes?" he asked the hesitating Wizengamot.

A forest of hands shot up.

"This is a travesty of justice. We don't even know what this Vow is!" Harry was beside himself with fury.

Some of the hands wavered, and then shot up again.

"And those in favour of sending Draco Malfoy to Azkaban for the term of his natural life?"

Harry laid one hand on Draco's tense, shaking arm, as hands started going up all over the courtroom.

oOoOoOo

_**Author's Notes: **Wow! Eighteen reviews to reply to this chapter. I'm completely amazed. Thank you so much for voting!_

_Of course, that means I would love to see more than eighteen votes on this current chapter. Pretty please? Go on, hit that review button, it won't take a moment. :-)_

_**Replies to comments:**_

_Celestia: Thanks! Draco's not going to be happy about having his head bashed either. But with his father in Azkaban and his mother dead, who will he complain to? I think you can guess. ;-) Miko23: Harry's really sticking up for Draco. I wonder how long that will last the moment Draco opens his mouth? Miko23: Lots more problems for Draco coming up. Thanks for saying that about my writing, I'm blushing now. Thanks! Luv u 2. Kit turned Mighty: Thanks for reviewing! I'm really flattered. ItsaMiracle: Bwahahahah! Yes, I'm cruel, more cliff hangers coming up. (I hope they're cliff hangery enough!) NinjaoftheDarkness: Thanks! Love that Harry plushie. The Earth Mystic: Harry was absolutely floored. But do you think under the circumstances, when Draco knew his only hope was Harry, that it was an honest apology? I think Harry really needed Hermione this chapter and he'll need her for the next too. But will she be there? ;-) Yes, I wish the spiders had got Umbridge too. She's so bad to Harry that she may as well be a Death Eater. She's certainly got the morals, or lack thereof, to be one. Percy's been promoted. He was only Court Scribe before. I can't stand Percy and I do agree he ought to be smacked to stop him popping out of the woodwork. juniper: I'm blushing. That's high praise indeed:-) I want to keep both Harry and Draco in character, yet bring them together and it's quite tricky. Draco's got so many prejudices and Harry has that temper from hell. Angemecanique: Will continue, thanks! Did you think Harry went well at the pleading? I think it could have gone better. gbheart: Thank you! Those Aurors are awful. FizzyTopKyle: I probably won't be able to update daily for a while. It depends how the writing goes. Thanks for the comment. EveBB: Draco owes Harry big time, but he's never been a grateful sort of person, so we'll see if it changes his behaviour. Sorry if it seems a bit rushed. I'm trying to write this story as fast as possible, as I have lots of real life responsibilities. I've tried to make the last couple of chapters a bit longer. stuper squash: Heh, heh:-) Potter's Wifey: Harry could do himself a favour modeling himself after Dumbledore. Glad you found Draco's apology shocking. Ann: Draco's about as scared as he's ever been at the moment. Thanks! DestinyEntwinements: Thanks! Glad you like it!_


	7. Vow

_**Author's Note**: I'm slightly blocked about how to get between the courtroom to the many later scenes I've already written, so here's just a quick chapter to get the courtroom scene over._

oOoOoOo

**The Bodyguard**

**Chapter 7: Vow**

Harry wanted to say something comforting to Draco, while Scrimgeour counted hands, but his tongue felt glued to the roof of his dry mouth.

At length the Minister nodded and spoke in a ringing voice, "Draco Malfoy, you are sentenced to take the Unbreakable Vow and become Harry James Potter's bodyguard. Sentence to be carried out immediately."

The chains holding Draco glowed golden and fell to the floor. Looking faint with relief, he tried to stand, but fell. Harry caught him and helped him up, recoiling slightly at the smell of his unwashed, bloodstained body.

Up on the podium, Umbridge took a tightly rolled scroll from Barnes. There was a nasty look of triumph on her face as she tapped the scroll with her wand, then gestured imperiously at the two Aurors, who had brought Draco into the courtroom.

"Prepare the prisoner for the Vow," she ordered. The two Aurors stepped forward. Draco gave an inarticulate yelp and tried to grab onto Harry, but the Aurors dragged him away and forced him down, brutally, to his knees. There was sneering laughter as Draco cried out in pain.

Harry glared at the Aurors, "I'll remember you two," he growled, and sank to his knees himself. On level with Draco's blood and tear stained face, he whispered, "I promise I'll get you out of here as soon as I can."

"Take his right hand in your right hand," Umbridge ordered Harry, who glared at her, and took Draco's sticky, trembling hand.

Umbridge took her time descending from the podium. She stood behind Harry and Draco and placed the tip of her wand on their clasped hands. Then she leaned over and handed Harry the scroll. "Read it!" she said.

Harry took the top of the scroll and was alarmed when it unrolled to his feet. Every part of it was covered with tiny writing. He looked up at Umbridge, "What does this all mean?"

"It means your complete protection, Chosen One," said Umbridge girlishly, in a voice intended for the entire courtroom. But then she leaned in close and with venomous eyes whispered, "Read every single word, or the boy dies in Azkaban."

Harry glared back, imagining Umbridge Transfigured into a toad. Then he started to read aloud from the scroll:

_"With the understanding that it is completely irrevocable, the following Unbreakable Vow is entered into by Draco Malfoy (hereinafter Slave) for all, but not limited to, services requested, anticipated or expected on behalf of Harry James Potter (hereinafter Master) on this tenth day of July, in the Office of the Ministry of Magic, London, UK, Earth, Solar System, Milky Way, the Universe..."_

It was the stupidest, dullest thing Harry had ever read and though the words gave him a sense of foreboding, they didn't appear to make the slightest bit of sense. He found his attention ebbing and after twenty minutes, he was reading without paying attention. He was distracted with concern for Draco, whose eyes were glazing over, and he hurried through the thousands of tedious words, in an effort to get the Slytherin out of the courtroom before he keeled over in a dead faint.

From the rising sound of conversation around them, it appeared even the courtroom had lost interest.

At length, Harry reached the end of the scroll, and looked up. Draco's eyes were closed, but he opened them when one of the Aurors nudged him in the shoulder.

"Uh, you finished?" Draco asked, looking at Harry in confusion.

Harry nodded.

A frantic look passed over Draco's face. What do I say? he mouthed frantically at Harry.

Yes, I suppose, Harry mouthed back.

In a rush, Draco said aloud, "Umm ... okay? Yes? I will?"

A thin tongue of flame issued from Umbridge's wand and wrapped around their hands like a red-hot wire.

oOoOoOo

_**Author's notes:** Umbridge's written Vows are just as boring and incomprehensible as her speeches! But equally as nasty..._

_I know it was just a quick chapter, but please don't let that stop you making a quick review!_

_**Replies to comments:**_

_Kit turned Mighty: Short? LOL! Chapter 6 was over 2000 words and the second longest chapter so far. ;-) Sorry that this chapter was so short but I felt I needed to submit SOMETHING rather than nothing. Longer chapters following, I promise. We'll be finding out more about the Vow soon. I suggest looking at Draco's face in the next chapter to see his immediate reaction. I agree about the possibilities too. But would a fine, upstanding Gryffindor like Harry think of as many possibilities as a slippery Slytherin? ;-) Miko23: Bluuuuush! You do write the nicest comments. Thank you very much. ;-) Kyla Mizuki: Thank you! The verdict's a case of out of the frying pan, into to the fire for Draco. He doesn't even know what he's Vowed to do. Yellowwolf: Thanks, please comment again:-) fragonknight01: I would love to see Dolores transfigured into a toad because a Vow like this makes her a sort of official Voldemort. Katharina-B: The Vow definitely isn't good! Thanks for your comment! Aimz: Yep, gotta have those cliff-hangers! ;-) Thanks:-) Evie Glacier Tako: I edited the story so I'm glad you didn't find any errors. I don't have a beta reader (uh, oh!) so I'm a bit worried that the story contains strangeness that I haven't picked up. _I_t's very hard to write a HP fanfic that hasn't been written already. Even the books are looking more and more like fanfic (Book 6 - Severus Snape as a reclusive bookworm - how many hundreds fanfics predicted that?) I'm not trying to write an alternative universe so similarities between The Bodyguard and the real books are what I'm striving for. DestinyEntwinements: Again:-) Wish I knew what O.o... means. The Earth Mystic: Oooh, yeah, a big binding coming on! Thanks for your comment, must get back to...plotting again Harry and Draco. Bwahahaha! ;-) ItsaMiracle: Story will move on in the next chapter. Draco has to meet Harry's pals. Yeah, the ones he's put down in every book! Bwahahaha! Potter's Wifey: Thanks. I've been trying to imagine the effects of the Vow. I know Unbreakable Vows are supposed to kill, but how? I'm thinking - fiery garrote. NinjaoftheDarkness: Thanks. ;-) FizzyTopKyle: Not too much of a cliff-hanger this time! Thanks for commenting. :-)_


	8. Frozen Serpent

**The Bodyguard**

**Chapter 8: Frozen Serpent**

The red tongue of flame burned brightly for only a moment. As it faded, Harry saw an unnatural expression of awe appear on Draco's pale, battered face. He stared at Harry, as if seeing him for the first time, and clasped Harry's right hand in both of his, as if suddenly desperate for his touch.

A slow, creeping feeling of horror went down Harry's spine. Something was terribly wrong. "Draco, are you all right?" he asked, his voice full of concern.

Draco blushed and seemed unable to speak. He nodded, wide-eyed.

Umbridge leered at Draco's reaction.

Harry saw her face, and was suddenly furious. He stood up, helped Draco to his feet and let go of his sticky hands. Then he wheeled around to face Umbridge, who only came up to his chest. She took a step backwards.

"What have you done to him?" he demanded, glaring down at her. He was aware of the whole Wizengamot muttering and staring, and his one desire, apart from hexing Umbridge to within an inch of her life, was to get out of the courtroom and examine Draco away from the watching, judging, cruel eyes.

Umbridge smirked up at Draco as if admiring her handiwork. "I think the question is - what HAVEN'T I done to him?"

Plastering an insincere smile on his face for the benefit of the watching Wizengamot, Harry thrust the Vow scroll deep into his pocket and said, in a voice that belied his expression, "I'll find out what you've done, Umbridge, believe me, and when I do, I swear you'll pay!" Umbridge's face twitched in what might have been alarm, and then Harry turned on his heel, and strode towards the exit, dragging a dazed and tottering Draco behind him.

He could hear the muttering rising to a crescendo behind him as he opened the door and Scrimgeour called out: "Wait! We want to see the Vow in action!"

Harry turned his head with a most un-Dumbledore-like expression on his face. "With respect, Minister - no chance! I will not put Draco Malfoy through his paces for your entertainment. He's sick and injured and we are leaving."

There were gasps from the Wizengamot, and Scrimgeour looked thoroughly scandalized.

Harry saw Barnes was walking down from the podium, clutching a clipboard and a pale wand that looked vaguely familiar. "Good day, Minister ... Wizengamot," said Harry stiffly. He looked around the dungeon courtroom, then pulled Draco through the door and shut it with a satisfying bang.

oOoOoOo

"Harry," panted Draco, the moment the door had closed. "Thank you!" He opened his arms and Harry found his face pressed against the taller teenager's bloodstained neck.

"I don't know what you're thanking me for," said Harry dully, extricating himself from Draco's arms. "I was RUBBISH. The Wizengamot refused to let me vouch for you and you very nearly ended up in Azkaban. Now you've got that Vow-"

Harry broke off. Draco was staring at down at his own lifted arms, as if he could not believe they had just been around Harry Potter. Then Draco looked back at Harry with a look of adoration on his face that would not have looked out of place on a house elf. Harry groaned and put his face in his hands. "What have they done to you?" he muttered, more to himself than to Draco.

Footsteps approached and Harry looked around. Lupin and Moody were hurrying down the torch-lit corridor. Moody's false leg clunked on the stone and he was frowning at Draco.

"I see you did it, Harry!" Lupin shouted. His face was tired and lined but his voice was cheerful.

No thanks to either of you! Harry thought, with a stab of annoyance. "Why didn't I see you two in the audience?" he asked. "I would have liked to have seen a friendly face. Or have had some help with the trial," he added grimly.

"The Wizengamot are hardly about to let ME view or influence a trial. I'm a werewolf," said Lupin, in a tone that suggested this should be obvious. "As for Moody-"

"I can't believe you bothered to rescue a Death Eater from Azkaban. Filth like him belong there," said Moody gruffly.

"He's just a kid, Moody," said Harry in annoyance. How he missed Sirius and Dumbledore and their unconditional love and support! Feeling alone, he looked at Draco and was alarmed to see him staring dreamily back, as if he hadn't heard Moody. "Snap out of it, Draco!" Harry exclaimed.

The Slytherin gave a start and his eyes became a little more normal. "Is that an order?" he asked.

Moody cackled.

"What's wrong with him, Harry?" asked Lupin.

Harry pushed his hands back through his hair in a gesture of frustration. "The Ministry made him take some sort of complex, new Unbreakable Vow before they'd let him be my bodyguard. It's messing with his head."

"My head is fine," insisted Draco, and then gave a well-executed stagger. Harry caught him and Draco leaned back into his arms.

"A new Unbreakable Vow?" said Lupin, puzzled.

Harry was disappointed. He'd hoped Lupin would be able to help. "It was Umbridge's idea," he said, and was rewarded by an understanding frown from Lupin.

"Ah, yes. The same ... lady ... who came up with the anti-werewolf legislation," said Lupin grimly. He looked at Draco and for the first time, there was a trace of sympathy in his eyes. "I don't know anything about a new Unbreakable Vow, but I find chocolate always helps after a bad experience," he said, reaching into his torn robes with a kind smile and bringing out a package of Honeyduke's finest, which he held out to Draco.

But the response from Draco was not gratitude. Instead, his face twisted with horror. "You're a werewolf! Stay away from me!" he cried, raising an arm in self-defence. Lupin did not lower the chocolate but his smile became rather fixed.

Abruptly, Harry's confusion turned to anger and he pushed Draco out of his arms. "Take the chocolate," he snapped. "It's not full moon and Professor Lupin is perfectly normal. He's trying to help you. You should thank him."

Very slowly, Draco took the proffered chocolate. "Thank you," he said sullenly. But the moment the chocolate was in his hands, he ripped the wrapping off and started taking massive bites, as if starving. Some of Harry's anger turned back into concern.

"A Vow, did you say Harry?" growled Moody.

Tearing his eyes away from Draco, Harry pulled the scroll out of his pocket and handed it to Moody. "Yes, this Vow. Longest, most boring thing I've ever read. I didn't understand half of it."

Moody examined the scroll, his magical blue eye flicking up and down over it. "The magic will understand, even if you didn't," he said. He rolled the scroll and handed it back to Harry, who thrust it back into his pocket. "Hmmm, I heard a rumour about this-" He broke off, as the dungeon door opened and Barnes lumbered through, still holding the clipboard and the pale wand.

"What have you heard, Moody?" Barnes asked, grinning in a way that made his scars stand out.

Moody grinned back, "Plenty you haven't, you earless bugger!" he said, and to Harry consternation, he and Barnes laughed, shook hands and started chatting like old friends.

"Just been hearing about this Vow," said Moody.

Barnes tapped the side of his nose with a stubby finger. "Brand new. It was very hush, hush for a while there."

Harry recalled that Moody was a retired Auror and probably knew every single Auror in the Ministry. But it wasn't pleasant to see Moody being so friendly to someone so closely linked with the Vow and Umbridge, even though he suspected Moody was trying to find out information for him. That was why he didn't resist when Draco pulled him away from the group. The chocolate seemed to have revived some of his vitality, and his adoring look had gone, replaced by an expression Harry found quite disagreeable.

Draco leaned in close and rested his hands on Harry's shoulders. "I want you to complain to the Ministry about my treatment, Harry! I spent last night in a filthy cell, without food or anywhere to sleep, and when the Aurors came for me, they beat me. You saw it!" He pointed to his forehead, now caked with dried blood. "I want compensation and an apology," he insisted petulantly.

Harry gaped at him. "You actually think I could make the Ministry apologize?" he said.

"Of course, you can! You're the Chosen One!" said Draco, the adoring and disagreeable looks duelling on his face. He gave a laugh that sounded slightly too eager. "As the Chosen One, you could even get Father out of Azkaban."

Harry remembered Draco's father: his cold, cruel face, and the way he had slipped Riddle's diary into Ginny Weasley's cauldron. "Certainly not, Draco," he replied.

Draco looked cross and spoiled. "Why not?" he demanded.

"Watch yourself, Harry," said Moody. "I've got a lot of experience with Death Eaters and I've learned you can't trust 'em for one second! Listen to that brat - he's just biding his time before he turns on you!"

Barnes and Lupin were watching intently.

Draco drew himself up and glared at Moody. "What would you know about my loyalties, you mad, old cripple?" he snarled.

"WHAT DID YOU SAY, LADDIE?" Moody's wand was out and, despite his wooden leg, he was on Draco in a flash.

Gasping in terror, Draco ducked behind Harry, but Moody followed him. There was a malevolent look in Moody's one normal eye that made even Harry want to duck. "Stop!" Harry cried, but only half-heartedly. He was furious at Draco's cheek.

Keeping both eyes on the Slytherin, Moody snarled out of the corner of his mouth. "Have you heard the story of the frozen serpent, Harry?" Draco dodged, but Moody headed him off. "A man took pity on a frozen serpent he found at the side of the road, and took it home to warm it by his fire. The moment the serpent recovered, it bit and killed the man. NEVER TRUST A DEATH EATER!" Moody had backed Draco into the wall. The tip of Moody's wand was at his throat.

"Harry, please!" Draco begged. His eyes were squeezed shut in panic.

"Moody, release him," said Harry quietly.

"Are you sure, Harry?" asked Moody, his eyes still on Draco.

"Release him!"

Slowly, Moody lifted the tip of his wand away from Draco's throat. "Whatever you say, Harry. We all want to see how you handle this."

As the wand left his throat, Draco opened his eyes and began to whine. "Harry, he's talking rubbish-"

"SHUT UP!" Harry roared. He was shaking from pent up rage. He had forgotten his previous feeling of connection to Draco. Instead, his many memories of the Slytherin's meanness, pettiness and cruelty were going through his head, to the point he wanted to reach out and throttle him.

Draco's mouth dropped open and he fell silent.

"You will NOT insult my Order friends again." Harry marvelled that his voice was not a scream.

"But what if they do something to me first-"

"I DON'T CARE!" This time Harry did scream. "Suck it up! Take it! You will be polite to them and you will do what they say."

Draco glared at Harry in a temper and opened his mouth to shout back...

...and the thin, red tongue of flame that had appeared during the Vow reappeared wrapped tightly around his throat.

oOoOoOo

_**Author's Notes**: Now we see the Vow in action. Comment or Draco gets it! Bwhahaha! ;-)_

_**Replies to comments:**_

_Miko23 - Thank you! I'd love to have you as my beta. How do you want me to send the chapters? PhoenixxStarr: Yeah, Umbridge is foul! I'd love to see her get her comeuppance. Kit turned Mighty: Luckily Harry has the scroll. I wonder if they'll be able to figure it out without help? ;-) unforgivable curse caster: Thank you! SuperSquash: (smile!) Redmeadow: Harry knew very well that Umbridge was up to something, but he wasn't given a chance to avoid it. Scrimgeour (no friend of Harry's) gave him the choice between Azkaban and the Vow, rather than letting him vouch for Draco. As for being weak and stupid - poor Harry - I didn't want to write Harry as some avenging super-lawyer who would destroy Umbridge's reputation and convince everyone of Draco's innocence because I thought that would be incredibly different to the canon. Harry didn't even get to finish his sentences when he was on trial in Order of the Phoenix. Not even Dumbledore could completely convince the Wizengamot of Harry's innocence last time, and what chance does a teenager have if even a hundred and fifty year old wizard can't manage it? As far as adult advisors are concerned, Harry is more thoroughly alone at the end of Book 6 than he ever has been before. His most loved and trusted adult mentors - Sirius and Dumbledore - are dead. His adult less close friends either cannot or will not help him as much as he wants. I think Rowling has been steadily stripping away Harry's adult support network over the past couple of books to make his eventually defeat of Voldemort more impressive. :-) The Earth Mystic: Thanks! I'd like to see Draco fight Voldie. I should get Draco cleaned up soon - I think he's suffered enough! ;-) Ann: Thanks! We'll see more of the Vow in action soon. juniper: Thanks! Harry tries to emulate Dumbledore, but his real personality keeps popping out! ;-) gbheart: Thanks! I HATE Umbridge too! Come to think of it - I could kill her off really painfully and messily. Ah, the joys of fanfiction. ;-) Kyla Mizuki: Harry really needed Hermione to understand the Vow for him, but Hermione - and Ron - are very busy. We'll find out what they're doing soon. Yellowwolf: Thank you, I hope this update is OK. I thought Harry might be a bit too angry. He'll have to make things up to Draco! ;-) DestinyEntwinements: Thank you for your review. :-) NinjaoftheDarkness: Toad Lady's Vow equals lots of angst for Draco. Potter's Wifey: Draco REALLY has to do what Harry says now. Even think what Harry wants him to think. Definitely not nice! I wonder what Hermione will say..._


	9. The Thin Red Line

**The Bodyguard**

**Chapter 9: The Thin Red Line**

Draco's flesh sizzled as the thin noose of flame drew tight around his throat. Pale eyes wide with terror, he tried to scream, but only gagged. Scrabbling desperately at the flame with both hands, he stared at Harry, through the smoke, his agonized eyes begging for help.

Horror washed Harry's anger away in an instant. "I'll save you!" he cried and ran to Draco's side. He pressed his fingers into that soft, pale throat, trying to work them under the flame so he could pull it loose, barely noticing his fingers burning. When he tried to tug the noose away, his hands passed right through. The flame was insubstantial as mist, though the way it was burning and throttling made it seem real enough.

Draco's lips were turning blue.

"Hold on, Draco, please," Harry begged. His chest ached, and he wracked his brain for any spell that could remove the flame, but nothing came to mind.

Draco's knees gave way and he slid down the wall until he was sitting on the floor. His struggles to remove the flame were weakening.

Harry sank down with him. "Aguamenti!" he said, and directed a jet of water at Draco's throat, but it boiled away without extinguishing the flame. Draco thrashed in agony.

Behind them, Barnes cackled with delight, apparently thoroughly entertained. Harry remembered that he'd helped Umbridge write this monstrosity of a spell. If he could create it, he could destroy it.

Standing up and wheeling around, Harry pointed his wand at the Chief Auror's face. Barnes stopped chuckling and glared at Harry, who wasn't intimidated.

"You will take the flame off Draco now!" Harry ordered.

"Only he can take it off," Barnes said, gesturing at Draco. "He has to obey."

Draco couldn't speak, but he could hear. The flame faded to yellow, and then snuffed out altogether, leaving a livid, sooty line around his throat. Gasping for breath, he leaned back against the wall. There was still a little smoke rising from his neck and fingertips.

"Jolly good! The Vow works perfectly!" exclaimed Barnes, his harsh voice jubilant. He grinned and scribbled something down on his clipboard.

Harry could have hexed Barnes into oblivion right there and then, but he had other priorities. He crouched down beside Draco. "Draco, how are you?"

Panting and wide-eyed, Draco looked at Harry and shook his head.

Harry clenched his fists and felt a sharp pain in his fingers, where the flame had burned them. "I'll take you to St Mungo's," he said. "Don't worry."

"Help me up." Draco's voice was wheezy but at least he'd caught his breath. Harry put an arm around him and pulled him to his feet.

With one arm still holding Draco up, Harry turned to face Barnes. "What have you done to him? Will this happen every time he talks back to me?"

Barnes looked up from his clipboard with a leer. "Oh, no! That was just a warning. If the Death Eater disobeys you good and proper, he'll die," he said, smacking his lips as if he'd just said something appetising. He fiddled with the pale wand he was clutching. "It should be safe enough to give him this back. Though there are plenty of things he can do for you that don't need a wand!" He gave a wink and a nasty laugh, and tossed the wand to Harry, who caught it easily, thanks to years of Seeker training.

Draco's wand was silky smooth and flexible in Harry's hand. He looked at Draco's haunted, abused, stunned face and felt so much burning rage rise up, that he was surprised his voice sounded calm. "I don't know what sort of person you think I am, Barnes, but I tell you now I will not do the Ministry's dirty work," he said. "The Ministry must want Draco Malfoy to die enslaved to me, rather than in Azkaban."

"Sounds about right," said Barnes cheerfully. "Umbridge says the Vow is more productive than Azkaban and I must say I agree. It's certainly more entertaining."

All the rage burst out of Harry in an instant. "You should be ashamed of yourself," he bellowed. "Watching people burn is something Voldemort would find entertaining." He was fiercely glad to see Barnes flinch at the name.

"How dare you!" Barnes growled, pointing his own stubby, pale wand at Harry.

"You've been chasing Death Eaters too long, Barnes," Harry persisted. "You're getting worse than they are!"

"Worse than Fenrir Greyback?" Barnes roared. "Impossible! That monster bit off my ears and ate them in front of me. It wasn't even full moon at the time but he wanted to taste human flesh."

"You were bitten by an untransformed werewolf?" said Harry, thinking that it explained the Chief Auror's personality. Bill Weasley had become extremely aggressive, since being bitten by an untransformed Fenrir.

"Is that true, Barnes? Does anyone else in the Ministry know?" asked Moody, looking hard at Barnes.

From the look on his face, it had occurred to Barnes that he'd revealed too much in his anger. "No ... no, of course not, Moody, it's not true," he growled, lowering his wand.

"Sure, Barnes. We believe you," said Harry, trying not to snigger in triumph. He held out the pale wand, handle first, to Draco, who took it, leaning forward and grabbing it quickly, as if terrified of what Harry would do next. Seeing this, Harry said softly, "Draco, I'd like you to disregard my last-" but he stopped as Draco gestured urgently over Harry's shoulder at Barnes. Harry turned and saw Barnes watching them, poised to write on his clipboard.

"Please, don't let us keep you here, Barnes," said Harry, in the most snidely courteous tone he could manage. "I'm sure Umbridge is dying to hear about the success of her Vow. I'm sure she'd be even more interested to hear about what Fenrir Greyback did to you. She's very ... CONCERNED ... about werewolves."

Lupin smirked.

Barnes scowled and stormed off, without a backward look at any of them and slammed the dungeon courtroom door behind him.

oOoOoOo

_**Author's Notes:** I hunger for reviews like Fenrir hungers for Auror ears! Please feed me:-)_

_**Replies to reviews:**_

_gbheart: Thank you. Yes, Umbridge is doomed. I've thought of a really nasty way of killing her off. It's so nasty I may have to increase the story rating so I can put it in... ;-) BabyKeepItSurreal: I do think Draco brought it on himself. Calling Moody a mad, old cripple was not a good idea, especially as Moody has the reputation of not being tell the difference between a handshake and attempted murder, let alone be capable of shrugging off a savage insult from a known Death Eater. I put it in because I thought it was in character for both Moody and Draco. Draco in the books has the masochistic habit of insulting or attacking the much more powerful (such as Harry!) and getting his butt kicked over and over. Moody? Well, he's just nuts! ;-) Yes, Draco's a slave now. He needs to watch himself around his old school enemy. I don't think Harry is ready to apologize yet. ProperT: Thanks! I'm really looking forward to writing Hermione's reaction. You want me to post more at a time, but others want me to post less. Sob! I can't win! ;-) Night Air: ;-) Kit turned Mighty: Thank you! The next chapter is nearly finished and I should be updating soon. silver4fire: You'll find out in the next chapters. Thanks for commenting. ;-) kareena: Thanks! Updating soon! NinjaoftheDarkness: Beater's Bat? I can do nastier than that for Toad Lady! Bwahahaha! ;-) Miko23: 'Ello, 'ello to my favourite beta. I don't have MSN but I do have e-mail. I'll send the chapters that way. DestinyEntwinements: Harry's angry. That adolescent angst... ;-) Yellowwolf: Thank you! Though Draco can be quite easy to lose patience with, don't you agree? ;-) MayuBlack: Your wish is my command. Umbridge is done for. It won't happen too soon, but it will happen. Miss Lesley: Thanks! Too long? Too short? Can't win! (cries ;-) It would have been just if Umbridge had been kicked out of the Ministry for what she did to Harry. But Umbridge is seen at Dumbledore's funeral, at the end of HBP with other Ministry staff, so justice clearly hasn't been served (although she's still terrified of centaurs.) It's a fact of life that those with power and connections can use them to avoid punishment, and I wouldn't be surprised if that's what Umbridge has done. So her punishment must fall to fanfic writers... ;-) Being the Chosen One wasn't much help for Harry at the Wizengamot. Percy mocked Harry for trying to use his reputation to free Draco. Scrimgeour was malicious. Umbridge? The less said about her the better. (I didn't want to make it too easy for Harry.) Do law wizards exist in the canon? I don't recall seeing them at any of the trials. All the Death Eaters defended themselves (poorly.) Yes, things haven't gone smoothly for Draco. He's an embodiment of the saying, 'Good deeds never go unpunished!' ;-) Laura: Draco's still alive. Can't promise he'll survive, though. SLNS: I love your comment and I'm reproducing it because you single out - THE ANGST! Love the angst! ;-) The Earth Mystic: Thanks for your comment! Updates coming up! Potter's Wifey: Thanks. ;-)_


	10. Friends

_**Author's Note:** Finally a tiny bit of fluff for Draco! It's in there somewhere with the angst. ;-)_

oOoOoOo_  
_

**The Bodyguard**

**Chapter 10: Friends**

Standing in the Ministry lift, heading back up to the surface, Harry watched Draco, who was leaning slumped and disconsolate against the wall and staring down at the floor. He pitied him, but he also wondered what on Earth he was going to do with him.

"You okay, Draco?" asked Harry quietly. It was a stupid question, but he felt he had to say something.

"I'm sore," Draco replied.

The stench of burned flesh was magnified in the confines of the lift. Harry's fingers smarted horribly from touching the flame and he could only imagine how much pain Draco was in. Would St Mungo's be willing to treat a Death Eater? Harry wondered how he'd manage if they refused. He hardly knew any healing spells.

Lupin was searching about in his torn robes. He and Moody hadn't said a thing since they had entered the lift, but Moody was watching Draco.

"You're taking the Death Eater back to the Headquarters, Harry?" Moody asked.

"His name's Draco, Moody, and yes, I am after I get him healed at St Mungo's."

"They won't take him," said Lupin.

"I'll talk them into it," said Harry, with a confidence he didn't feel. "And why shouldn't Draco stay at the Headquarters? He's not the Secret Keeper. He won't be able to tell anyone where it is, even if he wanted to." Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Draco giving him a hurt look.

Moody nodded and looked away with his real eye, though his blue one continued to spin.

There was silence in the lift, apart from the rustle of paper aeroplane memos. Then Draco moved to Harry's side and leaned into his ear.

"Harry, there's something I've never understood. Why do you hate me so much?" Draco's voice was soft and he looked weary and defeated.

Harry thought about what to say. His first instinct was to tell Draco he didn't hate him, but he knew Draco wouldn't be fooled. "You ask that now, after we've been at each other's throats for so many years?" he said wearily.

"I know I've done and said ... things. So have you," said Draco softly. "But you hated me on sight before anything had happened. Remember first year? Madam Malkins?"

Harry could picture the scene as though it were yesterday, the small boy with the pale, pointed face and white-blond hair standing up on a stool. "Yes, Madam Malkins is where I first saw you. We were getting measured up for our first school robes."

"Mother always said I wasn't supposed to talk to children I hadn't been introduced to, just in case they weren't the right kind of people. I don't know why I started talking to you. Maybe because you seemed a bit like me. Nervous about school and all. But you were so rude, Harry. You barely said a word back to me and you walked out of the shop without even saying goodbye."

"I couldn't wait to get away from you," Harry admitted. "You started talking about Quidditch as if you expected me to know all about it, then you said people from non-wizarding backgrounds shouldn't be let into Hogwarts because they didn't know our ways." Harry frowned. "I was raised by Muggles, Draco. I hadn't heard of Quidditch before."

"Ah..." said Draco softly, as if understanding something, but he didn't apologize. "Is that why you didn't want to be my friend on the train?" he asked.

"There was more to it than that," said Harry angrily. "In Diagon Alley, you called my friend Hagrid a savage. Then on the train you said those horrible things to Ron. What was it? Oh, yes. 'Weasleys have red hair, freckles and more children than they can afford.'"

"I did, but I don't see why it upset you so much. It doesn't make sense. You'd known Hagrid and Ron, what? A couple of hours? But you turned against me as if you'd known them all your life. And Hagrid really DOES get drunk and set fire to his bed like a savage," Draco added defensively.

Harry shrugged, and looked away to hide a smile at the thought of Hagrid and his pyromaniac drunkenness. "Yeah, I know he does sometimes. But that doesn't mean you can call him a savage." He took a deep breath. "I make friends fast, Draco. I decide I like someone and that's that. They're my friend for ever and I stick up for them."

Draco swallowed nervously and took a moment to reply. "Like the way you stuck up for me this morning at the Wizengamot?" he said at last.

Realising what Draco was saying, Harry gave him a searching look, then a faint smile. "I suppose so."

Draco bit his lip, and extended a shaking right hand. "Does that mean we're friends now?" he asked unsteadily, as if Harry's reply was very important to him.

Smiling, Harry shook Draco's hand, feeling his burned fingers sting. "We're friends. BUT..." he added firmly, not letting go of Draco's hand. "You're not allowed to put any of my other friends down, Draco. No calling Hermione a Mudblood. No calling Ron a blood traitor or Hagrid a savage." Harry frowned. "It's about time you realised that sort of thing is completely revolting, Draco. You can be such a hateful bastard, sometimes."

"That's really condescending of you, Harry," said Draco, the trace of a whine in his voice.

"I don't care if it's condescending. I MEAN it, Draco! Stay polite to my friends."

Draco hesitated and looked angry, then sad, then hopeful. "All right, Harry. I will. Are we f-friends?" he stuttered.

Harry loosened his death grip on Draco's hand but did not let go. "Yes," he said firmly.

Draco grinned and Harry found himself grinning back. They shook hands. Then Draco unexpectedly flung his arms around Harry and gave him a big hug. Harry patted Draco's back, feeling uncomfortable. Draco always seemed to want to touch him.

"Ha! Found it! I knew I had some somewhere," said Lupin.

Harry and Draco let go of each other. Lupin pulled a small, orange pot from his robes and held it out. "Burn paste," he said happily. "Clears up burns in no time."

"Thanks, Remus!" said Harry delightedly, taking the little pot. He was sure he'd seen similar paste smeared on Cedric's burned face during the Triwizard Tournament.

"Ask Tonks to have a look at Draco before you try St Mungo's," said Lupin. "She excelled at the healing part of her Auror course and St Mungo's probably won't admit him."

"You're brilliant, Remus," said Harry, feeling much better. He opened the pot, dipped his fingers into the orange paste and felt the burns on his fingertips tingle, and the pain start to recede immediately. "Lift your chin a bit, Draco, so I can fix your neck," he said.

Draco lifted his pointed chin, giving Harry a good view of the livid burn across his throat. "Damn the Ministry," Harry muttered to himself, gently stroking the paste over the burn. Draco breathed in hard and trembled at Harry's touch, but kept still. Harry smeared the paste liberally on Draco's neck. "Now your hands," said Harry, and Draco lifted them up. Harry smeared the paste on Draco's fingers, and then his own, then screwed the top of the pot back on and handed it back to Lupin.

"Thanks," said Harry. The pain was nearly gone and he was relieved to see that Draco seemed a lot happier too.

"Yes, thank you, Professor Lupin," said Draco and for the first time, he gave Lupin a friendly grin.

oOoOoOo

_**Author's Note:** Please review!_

**_Replies to reviews:_**

_mou: Your prediction is a little extreme! ;-) Thanks for your reviews. Potter's Wifey: Thanks. ;-) tati1: Me too! ;-) MayuBlack: Thanks! mellow yellow: I pretty much post what's done, so chapter length varies._


	11. Bed and Breakfast

_**Author's Notes:** According to NinjaoftheDarkness, alerts for the last two chapters didn't go out. I didn't receive any alerts at all from FF between November 18 and November 26 and the missing alerts have only just now started to filter through. I don't know what went wrong with FF but I hope it's fixed now!_

_Regarding the story: Rowling has said in interviews that Harry is very sexually inexperienced and naive for someone his age. So I'm having lots of fun writing what I call 'oblivious Harry' here. (Hint to Harry: Draco wants to shag you, get it? ;-)_

_Oh yes, and when I'm writing Draco, the picture called The King of Slytherin by frodobolson72 on deviantart dot com is how I imagine he looks. (Phwoar! Drool! Everyone is gay for that Draco! ;-)_

oOoOoOo

**The Bodyguard**

**Chapter 11: Bed and Breakfast**

The new headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix were in a long-abandoned warehouse in London's East End. The Order had spent days tidying it up, but the concrete walls were still damp and spiders lingered in the corners. At least, unlike Grimmauld Place, there were no screaming portraits.

Harry and Tonks sat at the large wooden table in the makeshift kitchen. Harry leaned back in his chair. "Any word from Ron and Hermione?" he asked.

"Nothing so far," said Tonks. Her hair was a brilliant shade of bubblegum pink, and she was wearing her Weird Sisters t-shirt. Seeing Harry's concerned face, Tonks added reassuringly, "I'm sure they're okay, Harry. Hermione's too smart to get caught in any of You Know Who's traps."

"Even Dumbledore wasn't THAT smart." Worry made Harry get up and pace the kitchen. "I wanted to send them a Patronus message. That way I'd KNOW they got it. Owls can't fly underground. But we decided not to use Patronus messaging after that fiasco on Dartmoor, when we found Patronuses attracted Inferi." Harry took a deep breath. "I'm giving Hermione and Ron until this afternoon, then I'm going after them."

"Remus and I will come with you," said Tonks quietly. She looked at Harry's tense shoulders and changed the subject. "So where's your new pet Death Eater, then?" she teased.

Harry spun around, but saw Tonks grinning cheekily, and grinned in weakly in return. "Draco's showering. He was covered in blood and soot," he said sadly.

"Maybe I should have healed him before he showered?"

"I thought so too, but Draco insisted on showering first. He said he didn't want anyone to see him like that." Harry sat down and fidgeted. "He's been there about twenty minutes. I knocked five minutes ago, but he said he was all right. Actually, what he said was, 'Bugger off, Potter. I usually take much longer than this.'"

Tonks chuckled. "Well, I'm ready to heal him if he comes out before Christmas," she said, leaning back in her chair.

"Thanks, Tonks," said Harry. He looked thoughtful. "Could you please show me some more healing spells? That broken nose spell, Episkey, came in useful."

Tonks grinned at him. "I'm glad, Harry, but Episkey's the simplest healing spell. Don't expect them all to be as easy as that. I'll give you a demonstration when I'm healing Draco. Speaking of Draco, did you give him something clean to change into?"

"Mrs Weasley said she'd give him one of Ron's old robes, because Ron's about the same size." He paused for a second and said uncomfortably, "Mrs Weasley doesn't like Draco very much, does she? She was pretty cold to him."

"It's the old blood traitor feud," said Tonks. "I doubt Molly's ever spoken a word to Draco before, even though they're cousins."

"They're cousins too?" said Harry in amazement. "I thought YOU were Draco's cousin?"

"I am," said Tonks. "Don't look so surprised, Harry. All the pure-bloods are closely related. Inbred, you might say!"

Harry laughed. "That would explain a lot!"

A creaking noise came from the stairwell. Someone was walking hesitantly downstairs.

"We're down here, Draco," Harry called out cheerfully.

The stairs creaked again, closer this time, and Draco stuck out his head, but only his head, from the stairwell and peered around. His freshly washed hair clung darkly to his temples. "Who's there?" he asked nervously.

"Just me and Tonks," said Harry concernedly. "What's the matter, Draco?"

"Oh, Harry. Where do I start? I can't be seen like this," said Draco, slinking towards the table and looking as miserable as a funeral.

Harry stared at him. At first glance, Draco appeared to be wearing a long, threadbare, maroon, velvet dress, which was depressingly frayed around the collar and cuffs. At second glance, Harry recognised what Draco was wearing and burst out laughing.

"Mrs Weasley gave you Ron's old dress robes to wear! I can't believe they're still around. I was certain Ron buried them at a crossroads at midnight with a stake through their heart," said Harry.

Draco cringed in embarrassment. "Undead dress robes from hell. I'd rather be naked," he said miserably. "Don't laugh!" he wailed, for Tonks was covering her mouth in an effort to stifle her giggles.

Harry racked his brains for something else Draco could wear. "I'd get you something else but there's no one else in the Order I can borrow clothes from right now. They're all out working," he said. "I've got some robes that wouldn't fit your shoulders. Or I've got some jeans that should fit."

"Muggle jeans?" said Draco, looking scandalized. "I've never worn Muggle clothes in my life." The bruises on his face stood out starkly against his pale skin and he swayed a little and had to grab the back of a chair for support.

Tonks saw and became serious. "You can fix your outfit later, Draco. First things first." She got up and patted her chair. "Sit here and I'll heal you."

Draco sat down slowly and painfully, looking cross and grumbling under his breath. Given the choice between being healed and having the latest, fashionable robe to wear, Harry thought Draco would probably take the robe and he felt torn between being amazed at Draco's vanity and embarrassment at how few clothes he had to share.

"The spell for healing bruises is: 'Frendocuro'. Why don't you give it a try, Harry? But be careful," said Tonks.

Harry hesitated, looking down at Draco. "What are the side effects if I get it wrong?"

"Nothing very serious," said Tonks. "I wouldn't be letting you try it on a living person if it were dangerous."

Draco stopped grumbling and looked up, "Get on with it, Harry. I'm in pain here," he said in a proud, peevish tone, tugging the front of Ron's dress robes.

"Give it a try on the bruises on his head, Harry. Just be gentle," said Tonks.

Reluctantly, Harry touched the tip of his wand to a bruise on Draco's forehead. "Frendocuro!" he said.

Draco winced. "Ow!"

"Ah, yes," said Tonks. "I did exactly the same thing when I first used that spell. You haven't healed Draco's bruise, Harry, you've just Transfigured it into the shape of a daisy."

"Sorry, Draco. I think I'll leave the healing to Tonks," said Harry, backing away.

"I should bloody well think so," grumbled Draco, looking exceeding floral.

"Don't give up, Harry. Practice on your hand until you get it right," said Tonks.

"Maybe later," said Harry, seeing Draco's cross and pained expression. "I'd rather help in a way that doesn't make him look like Seventies Muggle wallpaper."

Draco scowled and Harry felt a bit guilty. A little too heartily, he said, "Are you hungry, Draco?"

"Starving!"

"What do you want to eat?" Harry could hear Draco's stomach rumbling.

"Bacon and eggs and mushrooms and toast and pumpkin juice," said Draco, the words spilling enthusiastically out of him. "And some apples to follow."

"Breakfast coming right up. I'll make enough for all three of us," said Harry cheerfully, grabbing a frying pan out of the cupboard under the stove.

"You're not going to cook it yourself, are you Harry? Why don't you get the servants to do it?" asked Draco in astonishment.

Harry laughed and turned on the stove with a flick of his wand. "No servants here, Draco. Not unless I Transfigure a few of the spiders into French Maids."

"Do a few muscly topless waiters for me, Harry," Tonks joked. She was running her wand along the cuts on Draco's forehead and they were fading into pink marks.

"Oooh, I'll tell Remus you said that!" teased Harry, grinning.

"You snitch!" Tonks laughed.

Draco said nothing, but looked appalled and Harry didn't think it had anything to do with the stupid jokes. He became serious immediately. "Most people don't have servants, Draco. You'll have to get used to living without them."

Draco scowled but continued to say nothing, and Harry, as he turned back and started breaking eggs into the pan, reflected that Draco had been strangely quiet since the trial. It wasn't like him at all. He turned back to Draco ask him why but his mind went blank when he saw that Tonks had Draco leaning over a chair, his robes pulled up, while she ran her wand down his back. Draco's skin, where it wasn't injured, was pale as moonlight and Harry felt the monster in his chest growling for the first time in ages. I shouldn't look, Harry thought. But he couldn't drag his eyes away and he was still watching, as Draco turned his head and saw Harry staring at him. Draco smirked. Harry blushed, tore his gaze away and turned back to the stove, busying himself with cooking.

All three of them sat down to a midmorning breakfast a few minutes later. Draco ate rapidly, but with perfect manners. There was a slight smile on his face. Tonks watched him eat, while she fiddled with her pumpkin juice as if she had lost her appetite.

"Good to see you eating, Draco," Tonks said gently. "You need it."

Draco's mouth was full. He nodded at her.

"What was wrong?" asked Harry, who was sprinkling salt on his eggs.

"Slight concussion, infected whip welts on his back, bruising everywhere, malnutrition," said Tonks grimly. "The list goes on."

Not knowing how to articulate his sympathy, Harry settled for pushing more bacon onto Draco's plate. "Who whipped you?" he asked.

Draco swallowed a mouthful of eggs. "Alecto. Amycus's sister. After I refused to kill Muggles," he said.

"Sick..." Harry muttered.

Draco nodded and scooped up more eggs with his fork.

"I've done what I can. Draco should be fine after he's had some rest," said Tonks. She got to her feet. "Sorry to eat and run but I've got to meet Remus." She smiled happily. "See you later, Harry ... Draco..." she said and walked out of the kitchen.

"Thank you!" Draco called after her unexpectedly.

It was quiet after Tonks had left. Harry found he didn't have much to say to Draco. He kept picturing how Draco's naked back had looked and he stared down at his plate trying to will his face not to go red. It's been too long since I broke up with Ginny, he thought. I need a cold shower. I need SOMETHING to take my mind off ... it's just not right ... he's a boy ... worse than that, he's MALFOY...

Draco finished two big plates of breakfast, and then started eating his way through three red apples. He was stifling yawns and looked ready to put his head down on the table and sleep.

"Time for me to take you to bed, Draco," said Harry gently. He was surprised to see how much Draco's eyes widened and then he realised what he had just said. To cover his embarrassment, he started clearing the plates from the table and making them wash themselves in the sink.

"Bed?" Draco said, a pleased, hopeful look on his face.

"So you can get some sleep," Harry hastily explained and was surprised when Draco's face fell. "You didn't sleep last night, did you? I'm waiting here for Hermione and Ron to get back, so I don't need a bodyguard at the moment. You look like you haven't slept in days."

"That's about right," said Draco, his eyes half-closed.

He followed Harry up the rickety stairwell. Harry and Ron slept in a cramped, second floor, room that was strewn with dirty clothes and sweet wrappers. There were two single beds, both unmade. Ron's orange Chudley Cannons Quidditch poster, with all the players waving excitedly, hung over the bed nearest the window. A poster of a snowy owl hung over the bed nearest the door, and Hedwig's empty cage sat in the middle of the room. She had been sent with a message for Ron and Hermione and had not yet returned.

"Uh, sorry about the mess." A bit embarrassed, Harry kicked some of the sweet wrappers under the bed, so at least they wouldn't be seen. "You can sleep here." He pulled a pair of blue and white striped pyjamas from under his pillow.

Draco smiled a little. "It's okay, you should see my bedroom at the Mansion, before the house elves get to it."

"I've only got one pair of pyjamas, Draco, and I've been wearing them," Harry went on, feeling more embarrassed than ever. He felt his face go beetroot red, when Draco took the pyjamas, held them up to his face and sniffed them lazily.

"They smell like you," Draco drawled. "I like the way you smell." He threw the pyjamas down on Harry's bed, and began to undress, without the slightest bit of modesty. He touched his wand to his chest and the line of buttons on the hideous dress robe undid themselves. He slid Ron's robe down his shoulders, revealing luminously pale, smooth skin.

Harry couldn't look away, and he wondered at himself. Ron regularly got changed in front of him and he never even paid attention. But Ron didn't look him boldly right in the eye, as if watching for a reaction, when he took his clothes off.

The robes slipped down, until Draco was naked to the waist. Though much skinner than he should have been, he had a Quidditch player's body: sleek, with muscular arms and shoulders tapering down past palest pink nipples, to a slim waist and a flat, defined stomach. His beauty was only marred by a faint but shockingly massive scar that ran from the top of his breastbone all the way down to his belly button. It was well healed, but showed every sign of being a near fatal wound, a sword slash that had all but cut him in half.

Harry breathed in, horrified, and pointed at the scar. "Who did that...?" he began, but froze as a very nasty realisation came over him.

Draco was gazing at him strangely. "YOU did, Harry," he said, confirming everything Harry had feared.

It all came back to Harry in a rush. Draco crying in the bathroom, Moaning Myrtle by his side.

Sectumsempra!

The gush of blood from Draco's wounds. Blood spreading over the floor. Moaning Myrtle screaming.

"Oh, my God! Draco, I'm really, truly sorry," Harry babbled, horrified and ashamed of what he had done. "I had no idea what that spell did. I wouldn't have used it if I'd known-" He reached out and touched Draco's scar, and something flared in Draco's grey eyes. Suddenly Harry found himself caught in another of Draco's bear hugs and he hugged back whole-heartedly, wanting forgiveness. He couldn't think of anyone who had ever touched him so much. Harry had had more hugs from Draco in the last day than his own family had given him in his whole life.

But this hug was the most exhilarating, and to Harry, the most deliciously alarming, that he'd ever received. He was exquisitely aware Draco's warmth and sweet, just-showered scent. His hands sank into the soft, naked, pliant skin of Draco's back. Sleek, slightly damp, white-blond hair brushed against Harry's face as Draco lowered his mouth to his ear.

"Harry, I was going to use Crucio," whispered Draco. His lips brushed Harry's ear as he spoke and Harry shivered involuntarily, and pulled Draco closer.

"You still didn't deserve it," whispered Harry. The monster in his chest was alert and growling in happiness. He found himself breathing faster.

Draco lifted his face from Harry's ear and looked down into Harry's eyes, his face so close that Harry could taste the scent of apples on his breath. Harry lifted his chin, mesmerised by Draco's grey eyes. He felt a sense of unreality. Was he really standing here in a boy's - his enemy's - arms?

"Harry!" Hermione shouted from the kitchen.

"Where are you?" Ron was in the kitchen too.

Harry heard two pairs of feet running noisily up the stairs. He and Draco broke apart immediately, not daring to look at each other. Draco wrestled with Ron's robe, put his arms back inside it and tapped it with his wand to make the buttons do up.

"I'm up here!" shouted Harry, breathlessly. He was more relieved than he could say and not just because his friends were alive and well. There was something incredibly scary about the way he responded to Draco's touch.

oOoOoOo

_**Author's Note:** Mmm, yes, Harry. Very scary! Please review. ;-)_

**_Replies to reviews:_**

_ms.gringotts: Thanks. ;-) ProperT: Thanks! I'm sure Draco would want to know how long he has to keep up the nice act too! And who is the real bodyguard? We'll see... ;-) Kit turned Mighty: Thanks! Yes, Harry and Draco are friends, but not nearly close enough friends. Give 'em time. emeraud.silver: More on its way! Crowley Black: Draco was always a bit of a whiner if it got him attention. How about all those times he faked injury? Pride is something he'll have to work on. DestinyEntwinements: Heh. ;-) mimifoxlove: Their relationship is not shaping up as very healthy so far. I couldn't agree more. I wonder what Hermione would say? ;-) Wayra: Thanks! It's quite difficult to get Harry and Draco together and keep them in character. I hope they're still in character when I get 'em shagging like...you know. ;-) Yellowwolf: Thanks! Everyone missed a chapter. The alerts didn't go out! Is that a common thing? I'm not all that familiar with FF and I don't know if it always breaks down like this. :-( mandraco: Scrimgeour rushed poor Harry into it. But Harry wasn't the one hurt by the way he didn't insist on reading the Vow first. Unbreakable Vows only hurt the Vow taker. Harry owes Draco an apology! The Earth Mystic: I wonder how Remus's stuff doesn't fall out of his robes, considering he's got so many holes in them. unforgivable curse caster: Thanks:-) NinjaoftheDarkness: More cuteness coming up! Katharina-B: Oh yes, Draco's very OOC and it's killing him to be that way! ;-) There's a reason for his behaviour. Ron and Hermione are coming up in the next chapter. wizli: Oh yes, total slavery for Draco. Is Umbridge a Death Eater? Heh, I have an opinion on this which should show up eventually. There's a teeny bit of fluff and sexual tension in this chapter. Watch for Draco trying to get Harry alone so he can have his wicked way with him in the next few chapters... ;-) MayuBlack: Thanks. ;-) Queen Vampiress: Thanks! Updates coming soon. They've been ready for a while but I wanted to wait until the alerts starting working again on FF._


	12. Fashion Victim

_**Author's Note:** Would it kill Draco to be nice to Harry's friends? Maybe..._

_This is going to be a really embarrassing chapter for him. ;-)_

oOoOoOo

**The Bodyguard**

**Chapter 12: Fashion Victim**

"Harry! We got your owls about the Death Eaters and Draco Malfoy," called Ron, his feet thundering up the stairs. "Did you REALLY defend that bastard Malfoy at the Wizengamot?"

Draco tensed and a line appeared between his eyebrows but he said nothing. He folded his arms defensively, and stepped back, as though he dearly wanted to hide before anyone saw him in Ron's old dress robes, but he had nowhere to run.

"I'm fine Ron, and watch what you say," said Harry, feeling uncomfortable.

"Why-?" Ron began. He and Hermione burst into the room. Both looked like they'd been wrestling merpeople. Their clothing was torn, and damp, and they had seaweed in their hair but they were beaming with relief at seeing Harry again at last, alive and well. Harry grinned back, but saw their smiles slip as they caught sight of Draco over his shoulder.

"Bloody hell, it's you, Malfoy!" exclaimed Ron, in a far from welcoming voice. His freckled face became cruel as he saw what Draco was wearing and he howled with laughter. "And don't you look LOVELY?"

"Your Mum lent Draco some of YOUR clothes, Ron," said Harry pointedly, feeling more uncomfortable than ever.

Ron wasn't taken aback at all. "I must send Mum flowers. I'd forgotten how awful my old dress robes were." He sniggered mockingly. "Mmm, Malfoy, you look like you're wearing a little girl's dress. You need a matching bow in your hair."

Draco was clearly itching to reply, but he said nothing. The line between his eyebrows deepened.

Hermione kept her face composed and nudged Ron with her elbow in a futile attempt to stop his jeering laughter. "Hullo, Draco. How are you?" she said calmly.

"Hullo, Miss Granger. I'm fine, thank you. How are you?" said Draco in a very polite, and cold voice. Ron snorted with laughter.

"Call me Hermione." She was looking Draco up and down, from his hastily buttoned robe to his flushed cheeks, curiosity written all over her face.

"So Harry kept you out of Azkaban then, Malfoy?" asked Ron, still snorting.

"Clearly..." said Draco, with a contemptuous look at Ron. But then his hand went nervously up to his throat. He frowned at Ron, obviously trying to look dignified, despite the robe.

"What was your sentence, Draco?" said Hermione.

Now Harry saw her taking in his own burning cheeks and shifty eyes. "It was this," he said, taking the crumpled up Vow out of his pocket. He did not miss Draco's look of apprehension as he handed it to her.

Neither did Hermione. "What is it?" she asked, glancing at the scroll then sidelong at Draco.

"Some kind of Unbreakable Vow of obedience to me that the Wizengamot made him take," said Harry. He shuddered as he remembered the flame. "It's horrible. If he doesn't obey me, he gets burned and strangled."

"Cool!" said Ron instantly.

"Ron!" Harry and Hermione shouted. Ron looked taken aback.

"So if Draco has to obey you, you can't have been fighting just now?" said Hermione, rubbing her chin thoughtfully.

"What? No. We haven't been fighting. Why'd you ask?" said Harry in confusion.

"You both look a bit flushed," said Hermione candidly.

"Oh, really," said Harry, suddenly flustered and looking at the floor. "No, we've been getting on fine..."

Draco stared at Ron's Cannons poster as if it were the most interesting thing he'd ever seen.

Hermione watched them a moment but didn't comment. Instead, she started to read the Vow. Almost immediately, her eyes widened and she looked up again - straight at Draco. Harry saw that the Slytherin had turned away from the Chudley Cannons poster and was watching Hermione with mingled desperation and fear, as if he wanted to tear the Vow out of her hands before she found out what it said. Hermione frowned, then to Harry's surprise, she gave Draco a reassuring look and carried on reading.

But Draco did not look reassured.

"Harry, you wouldn't believe what we've just been through. We've got so much to tell you," said Ron.

"Did you get ... get that ... thing ... you were looking for?" Harry only just remembered to censor his words around Draco. Hermione and Ron had been seeking one of Voldemort's Horcruxes - Hufflepuff's cup - in a cave near a seaside village in Cornwall and it was probably best, Harry thought, to keep such vital information secret.

Both Ron and Hermione glanced at Draco as if they were thinking the same thing.

"Push off, Malfoy," Ron snarled. "We have private things to discuss and we don't need a sneaking Slytherin around."

"Ron, lay off him," said Harry crossly. Hermione looked up briefly from the Vow and glared at Ron.

Ron glanced at both of them, looking nonplussed.

"We can talk downstairs," said Harry. "Draco can stay up here. He was just going to get some sleep anyway." He could feel Draco's eyes on him. "Is that all right, Draco?" he found himself adding, with a touch of guilt. He saw Draco look at the three of them, standing close together, dearest friends from the first year. The Slytherin stood apart, looking surly and alone and gave a shrug.

"Have a good sleep, Draco. Please join us when you feel rested," said Hermione politely, taking Ron's elbow and escorting, nearly dragging, him out of the room. She was still holding the Vow and Draco watched her walk away with it with such a miserable and despondent look on his face that Harry felt a rush of sympathy.

What must it be like for him? Harry thought. How would I feel if this situation was reversed and I was stuck with Draco, Pansy, Crabbe and Goyle? Harry bent down and opened his trunk. "Look, I'm sorry about the robe, Draco," he said quietly. "I'll get you some decent clothes to wear." He rummaged in his trunk and pulled out a clean pair of jeans, that had always been too big for him, a t-shirt and a baseball hat. "These should fit."

"Muggle clothes?" said Draco, backing away in alarm.

"They look really good on. Much better than that robe," Harry tried to reason with him. He thought about asking to borrow Ron's more attractive robes for Draco, but he decided Ron would never agree.

Draco glanced down at the robe, as if trying to decide which was worse - jeans or a frayed robe that looked like a dress.

"You're welcome to go through my trunk and wear anything you like. Maybe you can make my robes longer with a spell?" said Harry.

"Spells don't work well on clothes," said Draco glumly. He pulled at one of the threads hanging from his frayed cuffs. "Let me guess, Ron used a Severing Charm on this?"

"Yes, he did."

"See what I mean?" Draco sighed, then yawned hugely.

"Get some sleep then come and join us, Draco," said Harry, thinking that Hermione, as usual, had the right idea. "We'll be downstairs. Give me a shout if you need anything."

"There actually is something I really need. Could I please have a private word with Hermione? Right now?" said Draco.

Harry stared at him. Draco was paler than usual. "Sure," he said slowly, wondering why Draco wanted to speak so urgently to the girl he had always ignored or called a Mudblood. "I'll ask her to pop up for a quick chat when I get downstairs."

"Thanks, Harry," murmured Draco, his eyes half shut. He sank down on Harry's bed, and put his face despairingly into his hands.

Harry turned to leave, thought better of it, and patted him comfortingly on the shoulder before he left the room. But Draco did not look up.

oOoOoOo

_**Author's Note: **Please, please, please leave a review. I'd love to know what you think so far! _

**_Replies to reviews:_**

_Wayra: Thanks! Ron's robes were too good a potential source of Draco angst for me to pass up. Potter's Wifey: Draco and Harry have certainly noticed each other in a way they haven't before. Ron and Hermione have been busy too. We'll find out what they've been doing soon. Kit turned Mighty: What a great review! Thank you very much. It's reviews like that which make me want to keep writing. Another update is on the way... Crowley Black: It's going to get hotter and heavier in the next few chapters. I'm curious how hot and heavy I can legally make it on FF. Danish Pastry 28: Shouldn't it a good thing that they end quickly? It would suck if everyone was saying, "Noooo! When will it end!" ;-) wizli: Draco's a true Slytherin. He's ambitious and he goes after what he wants - or who he wants. (I'm working on a later chapter where we will see Draco act out his greatest desire - it's a bit kinky! ;-) He's Potter's bitch, all right. But would he really want anybody to know how vulnerable he is to his enemy? Yellowwolf: I hope the alerts don't die again while I'm writing this. It's incentive to finish fast. ProperT: Draco and Harry's hug was too fluffy? Maybe, but I couldn't resist! ;-) Katharina-B: Draco's going to have a lot more people reacting to him soon. emeraud.silver: Thanks! The Earth Mystic: What a lovely review! Thank you. That was very encouraging. I wonder if I can fit some real topless waiters into this story? ;-) Novemberbaby1983: Thanks! Lots more planned... DestinyEntwinements: Good strange. ;-) ItsaMiracle: How old are Harry and Draco? Well, that could be a loaded question, depending where you're from. Let's just say - legal! ;-) _


	13. Gelovestis

_**Author's Notes:** More 'oblivious Harry' here. Don't you just want to educate him? Or watch Draco educate him for you? ;-)_

_**Spell Notes:** Rowling's spell are often Latin translations of the English description of what the spell does. For instance, 'Nox', the spell word that extinguishes light spells, means 'darkness' in Latin. I've copied Rowling and used Latin words for my spell invention - Gelovestis. (Thank goodness for translation web pages. ;-)_

oOoOoOo

**The Bodyguard**

**Chapter 13: Gelovestis**

Draco's private word with Hermione took twenty minutes, and she looked menacing as a thundercloud by the time she got back downstairs. She was muttering swear words to herself, mixed up with the word 'Ministry'. But when Ron and Harry asked her what she'd spoken about with Draco, she frowned and changed the subject. They all had plenty of other things to talk about, and before long Hermione's private conversation with Draco had slipped Harry's mind.

It took hours for Harry, Ron and Hermione to catch up on each other's news. By the time they'd finished, it was early evening and Mrs Weasley wanted the kitchen table free so she could make dinner before the other Order members arrived.

"We'll wrap this up quickly," promised Hermione, gathering maps and other papers from the table and shoving them into a bag she had borrowed from Hagrid, which had large fangs and tried to bite her as she pushed the papers in. Hermione waited until Mrs Weasley was out of earshot and then she said, "So we haven't made much progress. We still need to find and destroy V-Voldemort's four remaining Horcruxes, so that he becomes mortal and can be killed. We know the Horcruxes are: Nagini, V-Voldemort's snake, Hufflepuff's cup, Slytherin's locket and something of Gryffindor or Ravenclaw."

Harry nodded, noting that Hermione wasn't getting any better at saying the name, Voldemort, and Ron was still wincing every time he heard it. He said, "We've worked out that Ravenclaw's last known artefact, a jewelled quill, was destroyed in 1812. So the final Horcrux must be something that once belonged to Godric Gryffindor."

"The problem is, we don't still don't know what," said Hermione.

Harry drummed his fingers on the table. "This is so frustrating, Hermione. When you found out my father was the last descendant of Godric Gryffindor-"

"He wasn't," said Hermione quickly. "YOU are, Harry."

Harry gave a shrug. "Anyway, it made me think my parents might have had a Gryffindor artefact at their house, that Voldemort stole the night he murdered them. But it turns out that there were no Gryffindor artefacts at my house. My grandfather gave Gryffindor's sword to Dumbledore for safekeeping, and the Sorting Hat has always been at Hogwarts. Gryffindor left no other artefact, as far as anyone knows."

"What about Gryffindor's tomb at Godric's Hollow?" said Ron.

"There's nothing left, I checked. It was destroyed during the Reformation," said Harry. "I had an idea that pieces of marble from the tomb might have been reused to build some of the houses in Godric's Hollow-"

"And Amycus caught you while you were wandering around by yourself looking at walls. Stupid, Harry. You should have waited for backup," Hermione scolded.

Harry shivered, wondering what would have happened if Draco hadn't rescued him. "I know it was stupid, Hermione. I was so frustrated that I wasn't paying enough attention. I couldn't find a single fragment of the tomb anywhere." He got up and started pacing. "It was always a long shot. Voldemort is a vain and proud megalomaniac. He would want something more important to house a piece of his soul than a chunk of white marble from a smashed up tomb." Harry stopped pacing and looked at his friends. "But without a Ravenclaw artefact, and with the sword and hat impossible for Voldemort to reach, what is left but a piece of Gryffindor's tomb?"

"I'm more worried about the Horcruxes we DO know about," said Ron. "Who has taken them? Hufflepuff's cup - Hermione and me went into that sea cave in Cornwall. He Who Must Not Be Named loves putting things into sea caves, doesn't he Harry?"

"He was taken there on holiday by the orphanage when he was seven," said Harry. He sat down again. "The more I learn about Voldemort, the more predictable he becomes," he said thoughtfully.

"Yeah. But the cave reminded me of First Year, and the Philosopher's Stone. Remember how as we passed each task; the flying keys and the chess set, on the way to the stone, and we could tell someone had been through first? It was like that - we weren't a bit surprised when we got to the end and found the cup was gone," said Ron.

"No message from Sirius's little brother this time?" said Harry grimly, thinking about the fake Slytherin locket he and Dumbledore had found.

"No message, and it can't have been R.A.B.," said Ron. "Regulus Alphard Black took Slytherin's locket home to Grimmauld Place and died from the potion he drank in that other sea cave - and we know what happened to the locket after that."

Harry certainly did know. Mundungus Fletcher had stolen the locket from Grimmauld Place and sold it to Aberforth Dumbledore; Albus Dumbledore's goat-loving brother and the owner of the Hog's Head pub. A month ago, trio had found Aberforth face down and stunned behind his own bar. The locket had been stolen again and Aberforth hadn't seen who had taken it. It couldn't have been Mundungus this time as he was in Azkaban for impersonating an Inferius.

"At least He Who Must Not Be Named still has his snake," said Ron despondently. "So we know where one of the four Horcruxes is. Just the one. But it will be the hardest one to get to of all of them, what with Nagini living with You Know Who."

Harry sat down again and sighed. "Someone's out there who is much better at the Dark Arts than we are and is beating us to every Horcrux. It could only be Voldemort. He must know that we know about his Horcruxes and he's taking them out of their hiding spots one by one to keep them safe."

"I don't think it's HIM," said Hermione thoughtfully. "V-Voldemort wouldn't have left Dumbledore's brother alive when he took Slytherin's locket."

"Could it be an Order member?" suggested Ron. "One Dumbledore confided in about Horcruxes and who doesn't want to talk to us for some reason?"

"Why wouldn't an Order member talk to Harry? We're all on the same side," said Hermione sharply.

"I'm just making stuff up, I haven't a clue if it makes any sense," said Ron tiredly. He folded his arms on the table and leaned his head on them, in an attitude of exhaustion.

Harry ran his hands through his hair, feeling tired and hopeless. "This isn't getting us anywhere."

"Let's have a rest and talk after dinner," said Hermione. "Maybe we'll have a fresh perspective later on?"

oOoOoOo

The trio did not get much of a rest before dinner. Most of the Order was due to arrive and there was a lot of food to be cooked. Mrs Weasley immediately drafted the trio into helping her.

"Ron, what was the spell for peeling sprouts again?" asked Harry, putting down his knife and ruefully sucking his cut thumb.

"How many times has he shown you?" asked Mrs Weasley, stuffing a brace of chickens into the oven.

"About ten," said Ron, who was sitting with his feet up on the kitchen table several metres from the stove, yet was still stirring the soup thanks to a hastily muttered spell. "Harry was never that good at cutting up stuff. That's why his Potions marks sucked-"

"Ron, get your feet off the table," said Mrs Weasley. "Harry, don't forget to wash the blood off those sprouts before you put them in the saucepan."

Harry rinsed the sprouts under the tap, muttering under his breath. He set the chopping board and sprouts back down next to the stove and started peeling again, but he grinned when the sprouts suddenly floated into the air and started to peel themselves. "Thanks, Hermione," he said, turning around.

But Hermione wasn't holding her wand and she was looking intently towards the stairs. Harry followed her eyes, and saw a handsome Muggle teenage boy slouching sulkily in the stairwell. He was gorgeous - his jeans and t-shirt clung in all the right places to his slim, toned body, and his white-blond hair framed his face under his baseball cap. He was holding a wand...

It took Harry a second glance to realise the teenager was Draco Malfoy in Muggle clothes.

"Wow, Draco! You look great!" exclaimed Harry without thinking. He put down the sprout knife and walked over to the stairwell. He could see Hermione arching an eyebrow and smiling at him.

Draco looked down at himself. "How can I look great? These are Muggle clothes," he said haughtily. Then he looked embarrassed, "I'm not even sure if I've put them on right, Harry." he confided in a low voice, tugging at his t-shirt.

"You've nearly got them on right. You just need to-" Harry turned the baseball cap backwards on Draco's head. "There you go! You should wear Muggle clothes more often. Tight clothes suit you." Now that he was closer to Draco, he saw that Draco's pale face was blotchy and recently washed, as if he'd been crying upstairs alone. But Draco's grey eyes were cold and unperturbed.

"Are you all right?" said Harry softly, not knowing what to make of him.

"I'm fine," said Draco coldly. He flicked his wand again and the sprouts dived into the saucepan and started cooking themselves.

"Thanks, Draco," said Harry.

"You're welcome," said Draco unemotionally. He was like a locked door. Harry watched Draco walk past him into the kitchen with a touch of unease.

oOoOoOo

The rest of the cooking was a busy affair. Draco nodded silently in greeting to Mrs Weasley, and Ron, smiled a little at Hermione (to Harry's great surprise) and did whatever he was told without mentioning servants or house elves once. He chopped up the rest of the vegetables using magic, and Harry was surprised that Draco, the spoiled rich kid, knew any spells for chopping. But then he remembered how well Draco did in Potions, which required a lot of chopping of ingredients.

Hermione struck up a conversation with Draco right away about the Dark Arts and they talked with increasing eagerness all the way through the cooking. It was strange, Harry thought as he iced a large chocolate cake. Of all of his friends, the very LAST person he expected Draco to get on with was Hermione. He was used to seeing Draco look at Hermione with fury and hatred, and hearing him call her a Mudblood. Harry wondered what Hermione and Draco had talked about in that twenty minutes alone upstairs that had brought about such a change.

Ron gave Harry a look of bewildered jealousy and gestured in the direction of Draco and Hermione. Harry could only shrug.

The kitchen soon started to fill up with Order members who looked at Draco as they might have looked at something they had just scraped off their shoe, and Harry was glad that at least Hermione was willing to talk to him. They sat down to dinner with Hermione on one side of Draco, still chatting animatedly together about the Dark Arts, and Harry on the other, listening and saying little.

"Did you really conjure that barrier on the Astronomy Tower that only let Death Eaters pass through?" asked Hermione, cutting up her baked potato.

"I did," answered Draco. He looked a little uncomfortable about speaking about that terrible night when Dumbledore died and he and Snape had fled.

Hermione gave him a reassuring smile. "Fascinating. Semi-permeable barriers are a branch of the Dark Arts I've never read about."

Draco was clearly heartened that Hermione didn't appear to hold that night against him. He swallowed a mouthful of chicken and said: "That's because those barriers don't really count as a Dark Art." Hermione gave him a sceptical look and he added: "They can be used for anything, Hermione, depending on the kind of variables you put into the spell. Dumbledore put one around the Goblet of Fire that detected age and rejected those under seventeen."

"I remember that! So they're all the same sort of spell?" asked Hermione with great interest.

"They are," said Draco. Then he looked mischievous. "When I was still at Hogwarts, I thought about drawing a line that detected virginity across the Great Hall. Imagine sitting back and seeing all the virgins getting trapped." He chuckled wickedly.

Hermione puffed up with indignation. "What a thing to put in a school, Draco! I'm not surprised they took your prefect badge away," she scolded, but she was clearly struggling not to smile. She paused for a second and looked quite mischievous herself. "I wonder how many of the teachers would have gotten trapped?"

Draco burst out laughing and nearly choked on his pumpkin juice. Dabbling at his mouth with his napkin, he said: "Trelawney for sure..."

Hermione and Draco sniggered uncontrollably together. Professor Trelawney was Hermione's least favourite teacher. Harry felt his lips twitch and noticed that even Ron, who was sitting silently next to Hermione, picking miserably at his food and occasionally glaring at Draco, couldn't help but grin.

Mrs Weasley was also picking at her food down at the other end of the table, where she was sitting with Lupin, Tonks, Moody and Kingsley. But she had quite a different reason. Abruptly, she got up and looked out the window. "Fred and George are late," she said. "I wonder where they could be?"

Ron swallowed a mouthful of potato. "Maybe they're working back at their joke store tonight?"

Mrs Weasley wrung her hands. "Not this late, surely?" she said. Though she was trying to hide it, she sounded frightened and Harry frowned in concern.

"Sit back down, Mum. Fred and George are probably just waiting for a delivery of Instant Darkness Power or something. They'll be here soon," said Ron soothingly. But once Mrs Weasley had returned to her chair, he gave Harry and Hermione a worried look.

They were already finishing dessert - the large, rich chocolate cake Harry had iced - when the Weasley twins arrived, both bleeding but triumphant. "A couple of Death Eaters tried to jump us at the store," said Fred, as he strutted into the kitchen. His eyes were blackened and his magenta robes were torn.

"They didn't like the You Know Who U-No-Poo joke in our shop window. No sense of humour, those Death Eaters," said George. He was limping slightly.

Mrs Weasley flew across the room and flung her arms around them. "My boys! I was so worried! I thought Death Eaters had attacked you. And they did! They did!" Her voice rose, becoming almost hysterical. "What did they do to you?" she sobbed.

Fred and George tolerated her hug for a second and then wriggled out of her grip. "You should be wondering what WE did to THEM, Mum. No need to worry about us. We're fine," said Fred proudly.

"You MUST stay here tonight," said Mrs Weasley, in a voice that brooked no dissention. "You will NOT go back to that flat above your shop by yourselves, it's not properly warded. We don't have much room but we'll find you a place to sleep here."

"Your Mum's right," said Lupin quietly. "You should stay."

"Mum, it's not necessary. We know how to deal with Death Eaters - ah!" Fred had caught sight of Draco, and a predatory look came over his freckled face - the sort of expression a cat gives to a mouse it is about to pounce on and devour.

Harry saw Draco look frightened and vulnerable for a moment, before the cold, unperturbed expression came back down over his face. Unobtrusively, Harry put his fork down next to the last scrap of chocolate cake on his plate. He had a bad feeling about this.

"You're staying and that's final, even if someone has to sleep on the floor or share a bed. Sit down, boys," said Mrs Weasley, blowing her nose. "I'll get you your dinner."

She flicked her wand and two plates filled themselves with chicken and vegetables and floated over to the table. Fred and George grabbed the plates out of mid air. "Thanks, Mum," they said. Then they plonked themselves down in the empty seats in front of the trio and Draco and started shovelling baked potato and gravy into their mouths with gusto. They were grinning.

"Hi, Harry!" Fred and George chorused with their mouths full.

"How's the shop?" asked Harry. He was uncomfortably aware of the attention the twins were giving Draco.

"Lucrative!" Fred and George chorused.

"We'll be moving to larger premises soon," said George. "We're inventing new spells every day, and we're running out of room to display them all."

"Want to see our latest invention?" said Fred. He did not wait for Harry's reply. Instead, he pointed his wand at Draco. "Gelovestis!" he said.

Draco flinched, ever so slightly, and Harry heard him take a tiny, indrawn breath. But his cold, unperturbed expression didn't change in the slightest and Harry, who had been about to jump protectively in front of Draco, sank back on his seat. He was used to Draco being far from stoic about pain, even faking injury when it suited him, he decided that the spell, whatever it was, had not worked. "What was that?" he asked Fred gruffly.

"How odd," said Fred, looking at his wand as if trying to see where it was broken.

"Gelovestis!" said George.

Again, Draco gave a tiny flinch but his face remained stony.

"Stop it!" cried Hermione angrily.

"What are you doing to him?" said Harry, half rising from his chair.

"Gelovestis!" said Fred.

"It's supposed to instantly make a person's underpants chill to the temperature of ice, but it doesn't seem to be working," said George, who was clearly puzzled. "Malfoy should be running around the room screaming and tearing his clothes off, the great pansy." He pointed his wand at Draco again and, in a flash, Harry jumped up and sat protectively in Draco's lap. George's spell hit him instead.

"Yeow!" yelped Harry. He did indeed have an urge to run around the room and strip off his clothes so he could get his offending, chilly boxer shorts away from the tenderest parts of his body but he sat still and gritted his teeth instead. His bottom rested against Draco's crotch and he could feel the cold emanating from it. One Gelovestis spell was bad enough. How was Draco feeling after three?

Draco answered this unspoken question himself. His hand went protectively to his throat. "I think I've got frost bite, Harry," he said in a very quiet, very dignified and very pained voice.

Fred and George laughed horribly. "So it does work," said Fred.

"Cut it out!" shouted Hermione at the twins. She leaned in close to Harry's ear. "Harry," she whispered through gritted teeth. "Draco told me you made him Vow to obey the orders of your Order friends without question and treat them with respect, no matter how they treated him - on pain of death."

The truth hit Harry like a punch in the face. Now he knew why Draco had been so quiet that day. "Oh..."

"What are you whispering about? Speak up, we can't hear you," said George.

Hermione gave Harry an outraged glare. "Take the order off him," she hissed. "Rescind it! Or the Order could do ANYTHING to him."

Harry turned in Draco's lap to face him. "Draco," Harry said firmly. "You don't need to respect or obey my Order friends," He turned back and glared at the Weasley twins. "IF THEY'RE BEING COMPLETELY BLOODY STUPID!" he yelled.

What could only be described as a white-blond explosion followed. As if a switch had been flicked, a furious, hate-filled Draco replaced the quiet, wimpy Draco of that day. Harry was thrust forward as Draco leaped to his feet and ran around to the twins' side of the table screaming abuse at them, his wand out and gesticulating, and his pale face livid with fury. All the rage, misery, frustration and humiliation Draco had suffered was pouring out of him at last in a gigantic tantrum.

Without needing to think about it, Harry ran after Draco and held him back by his right arm before he could aim a punch or a spell at Fred. The twins were getting to their feet, their faces vicious, and they pulled out their wands with a business-like precision that made Harry's blood run cold.

"Don't touch him!" Harry shouted. "You started this!" He felt Hermione grab Draco's other arm and hold him back as well. He had no doubt that if Draco physically attacked the twins, he would die, whether by their hands or by those of the other Order members.

"You filthy COWARDS! How dare you pick on me?" Draco screamed at the twins, his pale hair flying around his face. He thrashed in Harry and Hermione's grip.

The adult members of the Order were getting to their feet. "Stop this at once!" snapped Lupin, getting out his own wand.

"What is the meaning of this?" demanded Kingsley.

"Fred and George were shooting Draco with freezing spells," said Harry, bucking in his effort to hold Draco back.

"Why not?" sneered Fred. "He's a Malfoy - a Death Eater. Don't you remember all the stuff he did to you in school, Harry?" He looked at Draco as if wondering what spell to use on him next.

"He's saved my life since then! I don't want you torturing him," shouted Harry. He looked at Hermione. "Let's get him up to my room."

Hermione nodded back, gritting her teeth as she maintained her grip on the struggling Slytherin. With difficulty, they dragged a hissing, spitting Draco towards the stairs. Ron got up and helped Hermione hold Draco's left arm.

"I KNEW that Death Eater was trouble," said Moody cheerfully.

oOoOoOo

_**Author's Notes: **Reviews! I'm starving for reviews! Please, please, please give 'em to me:-)_

_**Replies to reviews:**_

_The Earth Mystic: Thanks for your review. Draco may whine about muggle clothing but he is HOT in Harry's jeans! Katharina-B: I'm trying to copy Rowling's writing style, and she always writes from Harry's (fairly blinkered) point of view. I guess if she wrote from Hermione's point of view, the stories would be too obvious, as Hermione rarely misses a thing and everyone knows it. Your guesses about why Draco wants to speak to Hermione privately are very good! ;-) Jasmine: Thank you! Draco promised Harry Occlumency lessons so perhaps Harry will see Draco's conversation with Hermione - or if Draco's unlucky, even more incriminating things! mimifoxlove: I think Draco really needs an ally at the moment. Perhaps Hermione will fit the bill? Yes, it's ironic that the witches and wizards that are fighting against the tyranny of Voldemort are willing to use something like the Vow. It's said that you will eventually turn into your enemy if you fight them long enough... Kit turned Mighty: Thank you very much! You're a fantastic reviewer! More updates coming soon. :-) ItsaMiracle: Thank you very much! I did have Harry's age written into the story, then your previous comment reminded me that the age of consent is different in every country, but the Internet is worldwide. So to be on the safe side legally, I went back and removed all the references to Harry's age. Let's just say they're - legal in whatever country you happen to be in! ;-) HecateDeMort: Blush! Thanks. ;-) Queen Vampiress: Thanks! Draco is probably going to have nightmares about that robe now. I've only just started reading Draco fanfics and I hope I can keep my fanfic original. I refuse to refer to Draco's eyes as 'silvery'. They're grey, darn it! Though I have to admit, some of the other fanfics would be nice to steal from - mmmm, Veela Draco. Sexy! Probably a bit late for this fanfic. Maybe for future fanfics? ;-) ProperT: Thanks! Yes, Ron can be a bit unkind, but I put it down to being insensitive and inexperienced rather than being truly nasty. Crowley Black: Thanks! Nice to hear you can get hot and heavy on FF. I intend to. ;-) MNP: Thanks! I hope the update is okay. Potter's Wifey: Thanks! Hermione's a genius - enough to know what would happen if everyone else knew what the Vow meant. Yellowwolf: Thanks! Harry's an angry young man and I sense punches in the future. (Rubs Trelawney's crystal ball.) ScorpioPhoenix: Thanks! Mmm, delicious liaisons rock. ;-) ms.gringotts: Thanks! I LOVE the insults - Draco and Harry's witty, bitchy repartee is one of my favourite parts of the HP novels. Harry's mostly freed Draco and I hope I can get the Slytherin up to full silver bitch mode from now on. wizli: Thanks! Hermione's more tactful than naive. Heh, heh! The sleeping arrangement is going to be a little crowded thanks to the twins staying over. Joy. ;-) saiyan's whitelighter: Thanks. Short and frequent seems to be the way I update. _


	14. Inside Draco

_**Author's Notes: **In this chapter, Harry and Draco are going to enter each other's minds and find out a lot about each other. In particular, they'll find out that Harry's a very angry boy who never plays by the rules... (Warning: Some fairly mild non-consensual stuff.)_

_The soundtrack suggestion for Draco's memories in this chapter is: Winter by Tori Amos._

_Many thanks to darkend-angelz-wingz for beta-ing. :-)_

oOoOoOo

**The Bodyguard**

**Chapter 14: Inside Draco**

"The Order's going to kill me," said Draco dully as Ron closed the bedroom door. The wild look of fury on his face had faded as the trio had dragged him up the stairs, only to be replaced by a look of dread. When they released Draco's arms, he sank down miserably onto Harry's bed. Harry plonked himself down next to him and Ron and Hermione threw themselves on Ron's bed.

"They're not going to kill you," said Harry impatiently. "But for crying out loud, Draco, don't go berserk like that again. Next time they might shoot you down before I can do anything."

"Are you ordering me to put up with the Weasley twins?" asked Draco, looking up malevolently, his grey eyes now narrow and vicious.

"No!" Harry snarled. He took a deep, pained breath, feeling the awful chill in his boxer shorts. "No," he said more quietly this time. "The twins were being foul. But use your common sense next time and get us to help you, instead of tackling them by yourself." It was hard for Harry to talk. Stifling a gasp of pain, he hunched over, fighting the urge to get up and tear his clothes off to rid himself of the painful, embarrassing Gelovestis spell. He could see Draco was rocking and nearly doubled over with pain from the three Gelovestis spells the Weasley twins had inflicted on him.

"Weasley!" Draco called out, in a voice raspy with pain. "Did your brothers ever test their inventions on you?

Ron looked at Draco as if wondering whether to be civil or not. At last he said, "All the time, Malfoy."

"How did you like that?"

"It was fun," said Ron grimly. "For them..."

"I hate those twins," Draco muttered. "HATE them." He was shaking with humiliation and cold.

Ron frowned. "So do I, most of the time," he admitted.

At that moment, Harry was uncomfortable enough to be in silent agreement with Draco and Ron. He was staring hard at the floor, when something large and white crossed into his field of view and he looked up. Hermione stood over him, holding out Ron's pillow.

"Here," she said. "I put a heating spell on it."

Harry took the pillow and his fingers sank into the delicious warmth of it. "Brilliant Hermione, thanks," he said. He pushed it at Draco, who took it with a small whimper of thanks and hugged it into his crotch with all his strength, groaning with relief and humiliation.

"I don't think I'll be wanting that pillow back now, Draco," said Ron, with the ghost of a sympathetic smile. He lay down on his bed, put his hands behind his head and looked up at the ceiling.

Draco didn't even look up at Ron's use of his first name. He hunched miserably over the pillow, his head bowed and his white-blond hair hanging down over his face.

Hermione said nothing, but picked up Harry's pillow and tapped it with her wand. "One for you, Harry," she said with a smile.

Harry took the pill and hugged it tightly. "Thanks, Hermione. You're a genius," he said as the heat spread and he felt the Gelovestis spell dying away.

Hermione sat down on Ron's bed, looking a little pink from Harry's flattery, and beamed when Ron sat up, and put his arms around her and they both lay back down and snuggled together. Ron sighed and kissed her cheek, "Better make the most of this while we can, love. We're sleeping in separate beds tonight. With Fred and George staying here, our last chance at snagging the attic room has gone."

"Your Mum wouldn't have given us the attic room anyway, Ron," said Hermione. She imitated Mrs Weasley's voice, "You're not married, it just wouldn't be proper. Hermione can take the downstairs bed and Ron can sleep in Harry's room."

"She still thinks we're children. I wish Mum wasn't here-"

"I wish mine was," Draco was still hunched over his pillow and his face could not be seen, but his voice cut coldly across Ron's. "My Aunt Bellatrix murdered my mother last week. Ron, you should be grateful that you've still got a mother to worry about you."

Ron looked shaken and it took him a while before he could speak. "I'm sorry, Draco. I shouldn't have said that," he said at last.

Draco peered thoughtfully at Ron through curtains of white-blond hair. "'S all right," he hissed. He cleared his throat and made an obvious effort to change the subject. "How long have you and Hermione been going out, Ron?"

"Quite a while now," said Ron, cuddling Hermione closer.

Harry became aware of Draco's grey eyes staring at him through that white-blond hair, and he answered Draco's unspoken question. "I'm happy for them."

The grey eyes blinked, then turned back towards Ron and Hermione. "So what's so good about the attic room?" asked Draco conversationally. He was still hunched over Ron's pillow but he was no longer rocking with pain.

Ron gave Hermione a squeeze. "It's got the biggest bed in this whole place. AND there's even a little bathroom. AND it's private," he said.

"AND it's taken already by someone else in the Order," said Hermione frustratedly, as she squeezed Ron back.

"At least you've both got someone to be with, even if you can't be with each other all the time," said Harry sadly. He wasn't jealous, but he still felt very lonely sitting there watching his two best friends hugging each other, while he sat alone.

Well, alone apart from Draco ... but that didn't count. Did it? He sneaked a glance at the hunched over boy and felt a pang of sympathy. What a day Draco was having!

"There's nothing stopping you from getting back with Ginny," Ron said, glancing at Harry over Hermione's shoulder.

Harry felt Draco's eyes on him. "Yes, there is," he said. "Ginny's going out with Dean again." He was certain that the Slytherin's face twitched under that soft curtain of hair. "Do you want my pillow, Draco?" he asked. "I'm warm now."

"Thanks, Harry," drawled Draco, taking the pillow and sitting down on it. He straightened up, pushed his hands through his blond hair and it smoothed sleekly back against his head, as though his hands had Transfigured into combs. Grooming Charm, Harry thought and wondered at how Draco could manage to look dignified and haughty even while wearing Muggle clothes and sitting on a pillow that was reheating his arse.

"Hermione, we should get our own flat for privacy, like Fred and George," said Ron. He added bitterly, "I bet they're usually up there in their flat after work with a million girls. Shagging away like..." His voice trailed off. "Big ... shaggy ... things." He frowned and looked very undignified indeed, Harry thought, but Hermione kissed his cheek and chuckled as though she thought he was adorable.

"It won't be safe for us to move in together until V-Voldemort is gone," she said.

Draco flinched at the sound of the name. But Ron didn't flinch because he wasn't listening. He stared jealously at the ceiling. "Up there in their flat, shagging away. Lucky bastards. Shaggity, shag, shag."

Draco threw the pillow on his lap aside. "I'm going to get those twins back for those Gelovestis spells," he announced.

"Really? What about the Vow?" Harry asked, narrowing his eyes.

Draco smirked. "The Vow can't get me if you all help. That's what you said, Harry."

Hermione and Harry groaned, but Ron piped up curiously, "What do you have in mind?"

Draco's smirk broadened and became a wicked grin. "You really think the twins are shagging, Ron? I don't think they are and I intend to prove it." He looked business-like as well as mischievous and snapped his fingers. "Virginity detector line. Around the stairwell. First thing tomorrow morning."

"Brilliant!" Ron hooted with delight.

Harry laughed a bit too nervously.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "You boys. Fred and George may not turn out to be virgins."

"No harm in finding out for sure, Hermione," said Ron. "They've always told me there's no point in ME doing anything at all because they've already done it before me and better. First it was flying on a broomstick, then joining the Quidditch team. The only thing I've managed to do that they haven't is become a Prefect, and they teased the hell out of me for that. If I've managed to get shagging before them, I'll never let them forget it." He rubbed his hands together at the prospect.

"'Get shagging?' Is that what you call it, Ronald Weasley? You're so romantic," snarled Hermione, disentangling herself from her boyfriend. She sat up and folded her arms.

Ron looked shocked at himself. "H-Hermione, dear. I'm really sorry. I didn't mean it to come out like that," he said, in a nervous, placating tone.

Harry thought Ron sounded like Mr Weasley talking to Mrs Weasley after one of their rows, and he looked away so Ron and Hermione wouldn't see him smile. He saw Draco was already watching him. Their eyes met. Draco grinned back.

Hermione sat stiffly as Ron stroked her back, but before long she began to smile and melted back into his arms.

"Are you sure you can draw a virginity detector line, Draco?" Ron asked as soon as Hermione was relaxed. She rolled her eyes again but said nothing. Ron was massaging her back.

"I'm sure I can," Draco said proudly. "I'm a powerful wizard for my age."

"I've noticed," said Hermione, gazing at him thoughtfully, as Ron gave her a squeeze. "I'm pretty sure I saw you using Occlumency tonight."

Draco nodded and grimaced. "I did. Nearly all the time I was downstairs. I thought it was wise, considering I was in a room full of people who hated me."

"Occlumency is very difficult magic. Most people can't manage it at all, let alone do it silently," said Hermione, not looking at Harry, but Harry flushed anyway. How many Occlumency lessons with Snape had he had and not learned a thing?

Draco seemed to draw comfort from Hermione's flattery. "It's extremely difficult to use Occlumency and Legilimency silently," he boasted without shame. "But I'm brilliant at both of them. Severus Snape is one of the best Occlumens in the world, but I was able to keep him out of my mind and I even saw a few of HIS memories."

"Can you teach us Occlumency and Legilimency?" Hermione asked, her eyes bright at the thought of learning something new.

"If you're not dunderheads," said Draco, with an amused smirk and a silky tone reminiscent of Snape. He became serious. "I promised to teach Harry when he was still in the Death Eater cell. He's rubbish at Occlumency, Hermione. Absolute rubbish. Which is how Amycus caught him. He could tell what spells Harry was about to cast and block them."

Harry frowned. He had a strong urge to defend himself, even though, at some level, he knew Draco was right.

"So teach Harry now," said Hermione bossily. "We'll watch."

"Hermione, I don't think that's a good idea-" began Harry. He remembered how horrifying and invasive Occlumency lessons had been with Snape.

"Fine, Hermione," said Draco. He gave the tiniest flick of his wand.

Harry didn't have any time to prepare his mind or grab his wand before the bedroom blurred and faded as Draco's silent Legilimens spell struck him. Memories flickered before Harry at breakneck speed.

He was watching Ron and Hermione playing chess and Hermione was cross because she was losing badly ... He was sitting in the Slytherin common room in second year, disguised with Polyjuice as Goyle and Draco was in front of him doing an impression of Colin Creevy, "Potter, can I have your picture Potter? Can I have your autograph? Can I lick your shoes, please, Potter?" ... He was standing before Ginny Weasley in the Quidditch changing room. She was saying, "Malfoy's gone off sick too!" and he wheeled around to stare at her, shouting with a passion, "What? He's ill? What's wrong with him?" ... He was lying awake in bed, wondering what Draco was up to in the Room of Requirement ... He was standing paralysed and invisible on the Astronomy Tower with a terrified and remorseful Draco by his side, as Snape pointed his wand at Albus Dumbledore and shouted: "Avada Kedavra!"

"No!" Harry heard the real Draco yell.

The bedroom came back into focus. Draco was now kneeling on the bed in front of Harry, panting for breath, his eyes wide in terror. "I didn't want to see that again," he gasped.

"Neither did I!" said Harry furiously. He looked away, clenching his fists and trying to catch his breath. He was torn between embarrassment at how easy his mind was to plunder and the almost uncontrollable urge to strangle Draco to death right there and then for daring to view his private thoughts without permission and not even giving him a warning or chance to fight back.

"What did you see?" said Hermione, her voice full of concern and curiosity. Ron's mouth had dropped open and he was staring at Harry and Draco.

Draco's eyes became cool and unperturbed, "I saw that Ron's a better chess player than you, Hermione," he said and this news made Hermione frown.

"Sorry, I know that was a personal question."

"Harry, you should have seen yourself," said Ron. "Your eyes were flicking around in your head. You looked like you were dreaming."

"Legilimens IS like dreaming," said Harry. "FORCED dreaming so that someone else can watch." He glared daggers at Draco.

"You're supposed to force me OUT of your mind, Harry," said Draco. Then he smirked mockingly. "How many times did you disguise yourself with Polyjuice potion and come into the Slytherin common room to talk to me? Or was it just the once?"

"You saw that?" said Ron in amazement. He looked alarmed, as if wondering what other incriminating memories about him Draco would dredge up.

"Just the once," Harry answered through gritted teeth. "I didn't want you to see that." If Draco smirks again, he thought, I'll punch him.

But Draco looked serious. "If you don't want me to see anything, Harry, then you've got incentive to keep me out of your mind. You HAVE to keep me out. If I can get in, so can the Dark Lord." He took a deep breath; his pale eyes narrowed challengingly and his voice grew silky. "I knew you were bad at Occlumency, Harry, but I didn't realise you were quite this ... vulnerable."

Harry clenched his fists. "I'm not vulnerable." He saw Draco glance at Hermione to back him up and she shook her head apologetically at Harry. Harry felt a stab of fury at both of them.

"You ARE vulnerable, Harry," said Draco, turning back around to face him. "I'll let you prepare this time, and that doesn't happen in real life so I'm making this really easy for you. I'm spoiling you rotten! Empty your mind of thought and emotion and try saying 'Occlumens' aloud this time."

Angrily, Harry took out his wand. He tried to empty his mind, but all he could think of was what was Draco was about to do to him and how furious it made him feel. "Occlumens!" he said.

Draco's wand gave the tiniest flick and immediately Harry could feel him trying to break into his mind. Though he tried to keep Draco out, so many emotions boiled up that Harry felt his defences melting away. Those grey eyes entered him, plundered him without mercy and once again, the bedroom disappeared...

He was five and locked in the cupboard under the stairs, crying and starving hungry. The Dursleys had not fed him in two days because he was being punished for sneaking Dudley's new red bike out of the garage and taking it for a ride ... Quirrell was lifting the last of his turban off the back of his head, revealing the chalk-white face and burning red eyes of Voldemort ... He had just won the Quidditch Cup! He was soaring over the Quidditch oval with the snitch struggling in his hand, and he was happy enough to burst ... He was in the Gryffindor common room, looking down at Dobby, who was wearing a tea cosy hat. The elf was squeaking angrily, "Draco Malfoy is a bad boy!" ... He was looking at the black inside of the Sorting Hat, which was telling him, "I stand by what I said before. You would have done well in Slytherin" ... He was lying paralysed on the floor of a carriage in the Hogwart's Express. Draco was looming over him. A foot stomped down hard on his face and he felt his nose break...

"ARRRGH!"

The bedroom reappeared. Panting, Harry saw that Draco had both his hands clutched to his face and he was moaning with pain. Blood dripped from between his fingers and onto the t-shirt of Harry's that he was wearing.

"You punched him in the face, Harry," said Ron. He wore a look of bemusement. Hermione on the other hand looked horrified.

Harry looked down at his fist in amazement. He wasn't consciously aware that he'd punched Draco, but clearly he had.

Draco's eyes were narrowed, pained, furious slits above his hands. "Yor supposst to ooose yor MIND to dop me! Nod HID me! Yooo broke my node!" he spluttered through the blood.

"Sorry, Draco," said Harry, though part of him was glad, remembering the way Draco's foot had stomped down on his face. He felt violated and simmering with anger. "Move your hands away from your face and I'll fix your nose."

Draco looked doubtful, but lowered his hands. His face was a mess. "Episkey!" said Harry. Draco's hands went back up to his nose and felt it carefully.

"You fixed it," he said, as if he couldn't quite believe it. Though his nose was healed, his face was still covered in blood.

"Let me clean you up, Draco," said Hermione, standing up and walking over. "Tergeo!" she said.

The blood disappeared from Draco's face and hands. "Thanks, Hermione!" he said. "My nose isn't shaped like a daisy now is it?"

Hermione sat back down next to Ron, looking puzzled. "A daisy? No, it looks normal. Why a daisy?"

Draco looked at Harry through narrowed eyes. "Let's just say I've experienced Harry's healing spells before."

Harry frowned at the memory of his botched bruise cure. "Any chance of a thank you for fixing your nose, Draco?" he asked sourly.

Draco rounded on him in fury. "A thank you? Thank you SO much, Potter," Harry noted the use of his last name. "For fixing my nose which you BROKE when you ATTACKED me when I was trying to TEACH you!"

"You were looking my private memories. And YOU broke MY nose on the Hogwart's Express, Malfoy!" shouted Harry.

"Well, you and your friends turned me into a SLUG on the Hogwart's Express, and left me for my MOTHER to find!"

Ron watched them bicker and glanced at Hermione. "Feel the love!" he chortled. But Hermione didn't look amused.

"Shut up!" she shouted in a sudden temper. "Shut up the pair of you!"

Harry and Draco fell silent, panting and glaring at each other, as if daring the other to make the next move.

There was a long, long pause. Then Draco spoke up. "Did your family really starve you when you were five?"

Maybe it wasn't a taunt, maybe it was a real question, but in Harry's current mood, it was too much. He stared into Draco's eyes. "Legilimens!" he roared.

He had meant to catch Draco by surprise and subject him to some of his own medicine, but to his amazement, Draco was ready for him. He tried to penetrate those cold, unperturbed grey eyes and into the mind behind them, but it was like scratching against a solid wall of grey ice.

"I told you I was good, Potter," said Draco lazily. "You'll have to do better than that!" He smirked.

It was the smirk that was the last straw. Rather than struggle directly with Draco's powerful Occlumency, Harry reached out and snatched Draco's wand out of his hand.

Draco gasped in shock, "That's not how you're supposed-" he began, and tried to grab his wand back. But his eyes had become soft and vulnerable the moment the wand left his grip and Harry pressed his advantage without mercy. With savage triumph, he plunged inside Draco's mind.

A white-blond, cherubic five-year-old boy sat among mountains of splendidly wrapped presents, under a Christmas tree that looked like a dream, watched lovingly by his beautiful mother, and his handsome father. He unwrapped a miniature racing broom and squealed with delight, running to embrace his parents ... It was night and a small, pale six-year-old boy lay snuggled between his parents in an immense, carved antique bed, in a lovely bedroom hung with ancient tapestries. Father was reading him a bedtime story about a winged horse to make him sleepy, but Mother was the one drifting off to sleep ... A little boy ran through the snow in front of a magnificent English country mansion, surrounded by beautiful gardens, a gleaming, iced-over lake, snowy fields and hedgerows. His beaming mother lifted him up in her arms so that he could pat the velvet grey nose of a white, winged horse. A whole herd of them pressed up, with tossing heads and flexing wings, waiting for their turn to be patted. Their glossy white feathers sparkled in the winter sun ... A nine-year-old boy, his white-blond hair slicked back, ducked under a bludger and snatched the snitch from midair. He had won the Wiltshire Quidditch Cup for his under-11s team! Everyone in the stands were applauding him, but his eyes fell on two pale heads, Mother and Father, both up on their feet and cheering rapturously...

Harry was in heaven. He was experiencing Draco's memories so personally, so intimately, that they felt like his own. For the first time in his life, he felt like a cherished child in a loving family. At the back of his mind he knew that Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy were bad. He knew Lucius had given Ginny Weasley the diary Horcrux that had nearly killed her, and he knew that the Malfoys had tormented Dobby the house elf. But he saw none of that side of them in Draco's memories. They had loved their little boy utterly. Completely. They had been willing to kill for him. Willing to die for him.

Inside Draco, Harry tasted what it was like to be loved unconditionally, and it was intoxicating. It was addictive. He HAD to have more. Somewhere inside him, his conscience nagged and he was aware of holding a struggling body down on the bed, but he was no more able to stop himself than a shark in a feeding frenzy. He feasted on Draco's mind through his eyes...

But the memories were changing. Draco was getting older and new people were entering his life.

In a carriage in the Hogwart's Express, an eleven-year-old boy with messy black hair, startling green eyes behind round glasses, and the composure of someone much older stared down coolly at a white-blond boy's proffered hand of friendship. "I think I can tell who the wrong sort are for myself, thanks." ... A frowning boy was eating breakfast at the Slytherin table in the Great Hall with Pansy Parkinson, Blaise Zabini, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle, "I don't care what Potter's done, Zabini," the blond boy said. "I've never met a ruder little brat in my life. I'll get him back, I swear!" ... The youngest Gryffindor Seeker in a century soared over the Quidditch pitch, while a small First Year Slytherin boy stood in the stands, watching him and burning with jealousy ... That same small Slytherin boy, a year later, flew down through the gathering twilight to land on the Quidditch pitch next to Marcus Flint. "Congratulations, Draco. You were the best by far in your Seeker trial. You're on the team," Flint said, with a greedy look of trollish pleasure on his face. "Fly like that during the matches and the Quidditch Cup is Slytherin's!" ... Weeks later, the newest Slytherin Seeker stood mortified in front of his team and a crowd of laughing onlookers, including Fred and George Weasley, as Flint yelled at him, "The snitch was right on top of your head and you didn't notice, Malfoy! You were supposed to be paying attention to the game, not flirting with Harry Potter!" ... "AAARGH!" A lightning bolt scarred Fifth Year Gryffindor fell spectacularly and skidded face down for six feet after another Fifth Year's trip jinx caught him by the ankles ... The Gryffindor trio sat cosily together at a table doing homework in the library. As they chatted quietly, wistful grey eyes watched them through a gap in the shelves ... A pale, gorgeous teenage boy stood against the wall of an empty classroom, pressing soft kisses down the side of Cho Chang's throat. Cho was moaning in wanton abandon and she raised her chin so that the boy could caress every part of her neck. "Did Harry touch you like this?" the boy whispered between kisses, his hands running all over Cho's body. "Was he as good as me? How does he like to be touched?"

"You bastard!" shouted Harry and the bedroom came back into focus. Draco was pinned down beneath him looking terrified but Harry was too angry to care. "You snogged Cho Chang! You snogged my ex-girlfriend and you asked her what I liked in bed!"

Hermione and Ron were staring open mouthed at them.

"I bet Rita Skeeter would KILL to be able to do Legilimency," said Ron.

oOoOoOo

_**Author's Notes:** It's review-begging time again! Please, please review! I love your feedback!_

_**Regarding the Malfoy family:** I know some people subscribe to the idea that Draco was abused and neglected by his parents, but I don't buy that for one second. Draco openly boasts about bullying his father into buying him a racing broom in the first book, and receives daily deliveries of sweets from his doting mother. He's obviously loved and spoiled rotten._

_**Replies to Reviews:**_

_I had 24 reviews to answer this time! Thank you everyone. ;-) Adrienne Elly: Thanks! More to come as I write it... ;-) GreenEyedCatDragon: Thanks! Ron may just turn out to be more mature in other ways. ;-) lisa: Thanks! I'm trying to make chapters longer now. Jessie237: Thanks! I'll update soon. drippy123: Heh, if replies to reviews were illegal on FF, about half the authors would be busted! I checked the guidelines and there's nothing in there about replies to reviews. (FF wouldn't like it if I posted ONLY author notes and replies rather than story, but that's not how I post.) I figure it's only polite to answer reviewers - they've gone to the trouble of reviewing so I owe them note, especially if they've asked me a question. I put replies in italics so that it's clear where the story ends, and the replies are not longer than the stories themselves. NinjaoftheDarkness: You're a ninja? I'll back away carefully! ;-) emeraud.silver: Moody rocks! I wonder how he'll react to the Virginity Line? NinjaoftheDarkness (combined reply): Cute enough for you? ;-) The Earth Mystic: Thanks! Your crystal ball is right, right, right! mimifoxlove: Thanks. ;-) Kit turned Mighty: Thanks! You're a great reviewer! I stand by that:-) You caught the lap part? Cool. ;-) darkend-angelz-wingz (combined reply): I like your new name. Thanks so much for your beta work. You caught so many mistakes and it reads much better now. (Hugs!) HecateDeMort: Thank you. ;-) Yellowwolf: Thanks! Must read your stories! You caught the lap part too! Cool. ;-) ProperT: Ooh, that would have been a good twist to have Draco not wearing underwear. I didn't think of that! Potter's Wifey: Thanks! More Vow info later... Crowley Black: Warm pillows did the trick! There are naughtier ways but Hermione and Ron were watching. ;-) Katharina-B: Good call with Ron. Hermione knows why Draco treated her like he did...it will all come out. ;-) MNP: Thanks! Yes, Draco needs a hug, a big, long, half naked hug in bed. Next chapter. ;-) wizli: Yes, when you put it that way, the twin's attack seems less cruel. And, yes, Draco's hot. So is Harry! And Hermione's an excellent ally. One pair of pyjamas - who will get the top and who will get the bottom? ;-) Celestia: The twins were a bit nasty. _


	15. Single Bed

_**Author's Notes:** Thank you again to my wonderful beta, darkend-angelz-wingz. You wouldn't believe how many sentences she had to fix. Special mention to Joriwinter for feedback surgery.  
_

_Soundtrack suggestion is Special Ones by George. You can decide whether the song is aimed at Harry or Voldemort. ;-)_

oOoOoOo

**The Bodyguard**

**Chapter 15: Single Bed **

Draco's memories of kissing Cho Chang burned Harry like fire, though he wasn't sure what upset him the most - the fact that Cho Chang had kissed another boy or whether it was because that boy was Draco. Harry was aware that Hermione and Ron were staring at him, in shock at the way he'd forcibly used Legilimency, but he was too furious to care. He shifted his weight on the struggling Slytherin beneath him and tried to catch Draco's eyes, so that he could enter his mind again.

Draco threw his head from side to side to avoid Harry's gaze. He was pale with terror, and his white-blond hair stuck to his forehead with sweat, but he had a look of reckless bravado. "Of course, I snogged Cho Chang, Potter!" he sneered. "She was the prettiest girl in Hogwarts, so I was willing to forgive her for the terrible taste she showed in snogging you!"

Harry swore at him. "Why did you ask Cho what I liked in bed?" he snarled, looming threateningly over Draco.

Draco's pale cheeks suddenly went pink and his eyes focused on something over Harry's left shoulder. He sneered into the middle distance, "I wanted to find out what you were like in bed and spread it around the school ... ARRGH!" Harry had squeezed Draco's upper arms with all his strength and tears of pain rose spontaneously in Draco's eyes. Harry meant this as a punishment, but to his surprise it elicited a further confession. "All right, I was curious about you, okay? Now let go of me!" The Slytherin thrashed beneath Harry, his eyes squeezed shut and his whole face now a lively shade of pink.

"You filthy sicko! You're obsessed with me!" Harry yelled in disgust.

These words seemed to make Draco so angry that he momentarily forgot his fear. He opened his eyes and looked up defiantly. "That's rich, coming from someone who is RUBBING UP AGAINST ME RIGHT NOW, and lies awake in BED at two o'clock in the morning wondering about me!" Then he quickly averted his eyes and looked back up at the ceiling over Harry's shoulder.

It occurred to Harry that Draco did have a point. The way he had pinned Draco down to the bed - pelvises pressed tight, legs tangled and faces close together - must look extremely suggestive. He blushed, released Draco's arms and scooted to the end of the bed, to put as much distance between them as possible. "I wasn't rubbing ... I was only holding you down so-"

"So that you could rape my mind. You tore into my memories and smashed my face in, when I was only trying to help you, and you've got the nerve to call ME a sicko!"

Harry tried to protest, but the words stuck in his throat when he saw Draco slowly sitting up on the other end of the bed, stiffly and apparently painfully, with as much pathetic dignity as he could muster. He wondered if Draco was doing his old trick of pretending to be injured, but he certainly wasn't faking the blood that soaked his t-shirt from his broken, now healed, nose.

'Sicko!' The word echoed in Harry's mind and he groaned and pressed his hands to his face in horrified guilt and disbelief. Kissing someone's ex-girlfriend was nothing compared to what he'd just done to Draco's mind and body.

Draco noticed Harry's guilt and did nothing to discourage it. "Look what you've done to me, Harry." He tugged at his bloodstained t-shirt. "I've taken plenty of beatings from you in the last seven years-"

"And started every one of them," Harry pointed out, but with less conviction than usual.

"-but I never thought you'd hurt me like this when I was only trying to HELP you."

Harry flinched and Draco gave a humourless laugh. "Legilimency as a weapon - I doubt even the Dark Lord has tried that. Dark of you, Harry. Very Dark."

Feeling ill, Harry remembered how Voldemort had treated his servants - Quirrell whom he had left to die, Pettigrew whom he had forced to amputate his own hand - and felt a shock of recognition at the selfish way he had just treated Draco. Becoming like Voldemort was Harry's greatest fear.

"Harry's not as Dark as V-Voldemort. You do exaggerate, Draco," said Hermione. But Harry was certain that she and Ron were avoiding his eye and his guilt intensified. What must he have looked like when he was raiding Draco's memories, to make his friends so uncomfortable?

Draco smoothed back his mussed up hair. "When you told me you were with Ron not Harry, Hermione, I didn't believe it. But now I do. Ron wouldn't beat someone up, hold someone down and suck their memories out through their eyes and not even apologise afterwards," he said petulantly.

"Are you all right?" Hermione was staring very hard at Draco.

"Ask Harry, he knows me better than I do myself now."

Harry frowned. He knew what Draco was doing. The Slytherin's most powerful weapon had never been his wand or his fists. It had always been his nasty, manipulative little mouth and his unerring ability to find and to verbally capitalize on another person's weaknesses. But even Harry had to admit that Draco had a point this time. He had to apologize.

"Draco, look at me," said Harry quietly.

Draco's eyes wandered around the room. "No!" he exclaimed fearfully, and his hand went nervously to his throat.

"PLEASE, Draco."

Slowly and cautiously, Draco looked Harry in the eye, ready to flinch away at a moment's warning.

"I'm sorry," said Harry.

Draco looked away and sniffed disdainfully. He folded his arms.

Harry was too full of self-loathing and misery to be annoyed by Draco's attitude. He slid closer to Draco on the bed and Draco slid away from him. But Harry stopped him with a hand on his shoulder and Draco flinched at the touch. "Please forgive me, Draco. What I did was unbelievably rude and invasive and I'm ashamed of myself. I won't hurt you like that again," said Harry fervently. He could feel tears rising up and he blinked his eyes furiously, not wanting to let anyone see.

Draco sneaked a careful, sidelong glance at Harry's face. Then he looked openly at Harry and nodded grimly. Finally, he wordlessly offered his right hand and Harry shook it.

"Friends, then," said Draco seriously, still hanging onto Harry's hand. "But I want you to know, Harry, that I'd still teach you Occlumency even if you ripped me limb from limb and saw every memory in my head." He looked older, all of a sudden, all traces of childish petulance gone. "You're going to learn Occlumency, you're going to use it to fight the Dark Lord and you're going to avenge my Mother, no matter what."

Draco's determination made another wave of guilt pass over Harry as he remembered those endless, fruitless Occlumency lessons he had had with Snape. "Draco, I ... appreciate ... that you want to teach me Occlumency, but I don't think I'm capable of learning," he admitted.

"Nonsense, Harry," said Draco bracingly. "You'll need more than two attempts to learn Occlumency."

"I-I've had many more than two goes," said Harry. He had no choice but to admit the painful truth. "Snape gave me Occlumency lessons and I still couldn't keep him out. I just can't learn it, Draco. There's no point in teaching me. I'll only end up hurting you again and I won't learn a thing." He thought about Draco's dead Mother and winced slightly with guilt.

Draco frowned and stared at Harry with surprise. "Severus taught you Occlumency, Harry? When did he do that?"

"You walked into one of the lessons. Remember when you saw us together and Snape told you he was giving me remedial potions lessons?"

Draco mouthed the word, 'Oh!' "I should have guessed," he said aloud. "Severus NEVER gave remedial potions lessons."

"He didn't teach me a thing," said Harry, his voice rising with indignation at the memory. "He just told me to think 'Occlumens', then he broke into my mind, over and over. He never gave me a chance to fight back."

"Harry, that's how Occlumency's taught," said Draco. "You have to have your mind broken into and learn how it feels to fight back. It's not something you can pick up from a book."

Hermione looked alarmed at the idea it was impossible to learn something out of a book.

"How many lessons did you receive?" Draco asked, pushing his hair back again.

"About twenty," said Harry.

Draco stared, open-mouthed. "My respect for Professor Snape has increased ten-fold. He gave YOU twenty Occlumency lessons and SURVIVED? How badly did you hurt him, Harry?"

Harry flushed and he felt forced to prove he had not hurt Snape. "I didn't hurt him. Not badly, anyway. I just hit him with a few Stinging Hexes, knocked him down a bit with shield spells; threw him around the room a bit and broke some of his jars..." Harry's voice faded as he realised that in his rush to prove that he hadn't hurt Snape, he'd actually proved quite the opposite. And that was not counting seeing Snape's memories in the Pensieve.

Hermione and Ron looked more uncomfortable than ever.

"Did you see any of Professor Snape's memories?" asked Draco coolly, as if reading Harry's mind.

Harry bit his lip. "I swore not to talk about them," he said slowly. "Yes, I did." He remembered how he'd seen the memory of Snape's father abusing his mother when Snape was five. He remembered how he had seen his own father hanging Snape in the air by his ankle. He had every intention of taking Snape's memories to the grave without telling them to a soul.

"I bet you saw Professor Snape's memories, Harry," drawled Draco. "I bet you threw him down, like you threw me down, and ate his childhood for breakfast."

"I didn't," snapped Harry. But he felt forced to admit: "He stopped me when I tried to see what he didn't want me to see."

"Harry, that's awful..." said Hermione in shocked accusation and Ron grimaced.

"Professor Snape was always much more powerful that I was," said Draco. He crossed his legs, and rested his pointed chin on both fists, looking thoughtfully at Harry. "So Severus has already tried the brute force approach of teaching Occlumency and it didn't work on you. Interesting, that you're so strong at Legilimency," (Harry flinched.) "And usually a person's Occlumency is just as strong as their Legilimency, but not in your case. Something's blocking you, Harry. I'll have to try another approach, something Severus hasn't tried. I swear you're not leaving this house until you can keep me out of your head."

"If there was another way to teach Harry Occlumency, don't you think Snape would have already tried it?" Hermione pointed out doubtfully.

"Not at all, Hermione," said Draco. "There are plenty of things that a decent, law-abiding teacher like Severus Snape, wouldn't have tried."

Harry's lip curled with scorn. "Snape, a decent teacher? Are you mad? Are we even talking about the same greasy git here?" he sneered. Ron chuckled.

A line appeared between Draco's eyebrows. "Don't call him that! Severus Snape is a friend of my family and I've known him all my life, Harry. He was my mother and father's best friend from school."

This wasn't really news to Harry. He'd heard Sirius calling Snape Lucius Malfoy's lap dog. "No wonder you were always Snape's pet in class."

"And you were Dumbledore and McGonagall's pet, Harry. McGonagall even bought you a racing broom in First Year, and she didn't expel you and Ron in Second Year when you flew that car into the Whomping Willow. Professor Snape would have had me out on my ear if I'd tried anything like that."

"At least Dumbledore and McGonagall were good to you. Snape was horrible to me," said Harry. He thought of Snape's black, fathomless eyes, billowing robes and silky voice and shuddered.

"You were horrible to him, Harry!" exclaimed Draco.

"Snape murdered Dumbledore!" exclaimed Harry and Draco was silent for a moment. Then he took a deep breath and appeared to be steeling himself to make a confession.

"There's something you should know, Harry. Promise you won't hurt me," said Draco softly.

"I promise," said Harry. He was unhappy that Draco felt it necessary get such a promise. He saw Hermione and Ron both look at Draco, listening intently.

"After the D-Dark Lord gave me a Dark Mark and ordered me to kill Dumbledore, Mother paid Severus a visit during the holidays and made him take an Unbreakable Vow to protect me and carry out my task if I proved ... unable. Well, as you know I proved unable, Harry. I couldn't kill Dumbledore. I couldn't kill anybody," whispered Draco, his face haunted. He took a deep shuddering breath. "I'm too weak."

"Don't be ashamed that you've still got your innocence, Draco. Not being able to kill isn't weak, it's strong. V-Voldemort's murdering bullshit is beneath you," said Hermione softly.

Draco gave her a sad, thankful smile.

"I already know about Snape's Unbreakable Vow, Draco. I overheard you and Snape talking about it," said Harry, dismissing it with a wave.

Draco blinked at him. "If you already know about it then you should realise that Professor Snape was FORCED to kill Dumbledore. He didn't want to do it, Harry. There's no way he would have done it, given a choice." Draco took a deep breath. "There's something I know about Severus, which most people don't. He tried to keep it secret, but Dumbledore was like a father to him. They used to meet up for chats in the Forbidden Forest so that no one could see them together. I followed them once or twice."

"Hagrid told me he overheard them talking in there," said Harry thoughtfully, then he frowned. "But you're forgetting I was there on the Astronomy Tower, Draco." His voice rose in anger. "I SAW Snape kill Dumbledore. I saw the way he looked at him before ... before he did it. There was such a look of hate and disgust on his Snape's face - he HATED Dumbledore and he wanted to be rid of him. That's what it looked like!"

"It was the VOW and what it was making him do, that he hated and was disgusted about, Harry," said Draco passionately. "If Professor Snape hadn't killed Dumbledore then he would've died. The Vow would have killed him."

"Then he should have died!" yelled Harry. He remembered what Sirius had told Wormtail in the Shrieking Shack when Wormtail had whined that he was given a choice to betray Harry's parents or die. "Snape should have died rather than betray and murder Dumbledore!"

A ringing silence followed. Harry and Draco were both trying to catch their breath. Draco hugged his legs to his chest. There was a lost, pained expression on his face, as if he were considering what Harry had just told him and it broke his heart.

At length, Draco spoke, very quietly. "Harry, there's something I've been wondering about."

"What?" said Harry dully.

"How did Dumbledore get so weak that ... that night? He could barely stand upright. I was able to use Expelliarmus on him, and I don't think for a second that I would have been able to do that if he'd been healthy."

"You didn't tell us Dumbledore was sick, Harry," said Ron. "What happened to him while you two were ... away?" Harry saw Ron stop himself before he mentioned Horcruxes.

"I-" Harry became caught up in the ghastly memory of Voldemort's cave, and Dumbledore's torment. He didn't even stop to consider what would happen when the truth got out. "I ... poured poison down Dumbledore's throat," he admitted.

"WHAT?" screeched Draco, Hermione and Ron, in unison at the tops of their voices.

"You poisoned Dumbledore? How could you, Harry?" said Hermione, her eyes wide with fear and shock. She and Ron flinched away from Harry.

Harry felt another wave of guilt and self-loathing pass over him, and felt himself rocking back and forth in misery while he tried desperately to explain. "I didn't want to do it, I swear. It was the worst thing I've ever done. I still have nightmares about it. Dumbledore screaming and moaning and begging me to stop feeding him the poison."

"So why didn't you stop?" snarled Ron, looking at Harry as if he didn't know him. Harry felt his heart contract.

"I wanted to stop. But before we went out that night, Dumbledore made me swear to obey him. I didn't have a choice. He ORDERED me to pour the poison down his throat. I HATED it! It was DISGUSTING!"

A strange look came over Hermione's face. "Hate... Disgust..." she breathed. She clapped a hand to her forehead as if she had just understood something. The others stared at her curiously. "No, don't talk to me," she said. "I need to think. Harry, did you say Hagrid overheard Snape and Dumbledore talking in the Forbidden Forest? What were they talking about?"

"Hagrid didn't say exactly what he heard and I don't really remember much," said Harry. "But he said it sounded like they were having a heated argument. Snape and Dumbledore must have been yelling at each other at the tops of their voices for Hagrid to have overheard them." He looked at Draco as if this was proof. "See? Snape hated Dumbledore."

"I wonder..." said Hermione, looking thoughtfully at Draco and tapping her chin.

"Hermione does this all the time," said Ron conversationally to Draco. "She gets these brilliant ideas and then she won't tell us about them."

Draco unfolded his legs. "While Hermione's deciding whether to tell us about her brain wave or not, I'd better teach you Occlumency, Ron," he said, in a business-like voice.

Ron looked alarmed.

"Relax, I won't do to you what Harry did to me," said Draco, not looking at Harry, who was now scowling. "Clear your mind of all thoughts and emotions." Ron closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "That was quick! There aren't many thoughts and emotions in that red head of yours, Ron," Draco sniggered mischievously.

Ron opened his eyes. "Piss off, Malfoy," he said, but he was grinning. He didn't look quite so apprehensive now.

Draco grinned too. "Sorry, couldn't resist," he drawled. "Okay, seriously now, Ron. Clear your mind, take a hold of your wand, open your eyes and say, 'Occlumens'."

Harry sat on the bed, feeling guilty about what he had done to Draco and Dumbledore, and watching the Occlumency lesson. It was similar to what he'd experienced with Snape. Ron could not keep Draco out of his mind, but Draco did not stay in long, once he'd breached Ron's defences. Draco made no comment about what he saw in Ron's mind, apart from briefly muttering, "Don't worry. We'll get the twins tomorrow."

"I need a rest," said Ron, mopping his forehead after the twentieth attack on his mind.

"All right, but I haven't finished with you, Ronald Weasley. I'll test you again tomorrow," warned Draco. "Hermione, it's your turn."

It took Hermione ten goes to eject Draco from her head. Draco didn't comment about her memories either, but there was something about them that made him look very happy. He was beaming when he said: "You're off to a great start, Hermione, but you're still not very strong. Anyone could break you if they tried. I want you to practice with Ron, and I'll test you tomorrow as well."

"Thanks, Draco," said Hermione, looking pleased at the praise.

There was a rustle at the window and something large and white fluttered against the glass. Draco jumped up instantly, wand at the ready, but Harry held him back. "It's my owl, Hedwig," he said as he opened the window. Hedwig fluttered down onto Harry's shoulder and nibbled his ear in greeting. Harry petted her.

"I always thought she was beautiful," said Draco.

"She is," said Harry, putting Hedwig on her perch and filling up her owl treat bowl.

"We should get some sleep," said Ron. "It's not late, but we have to get up early tomorrow so Draco can have the virginity line set up before my brothers get downstairs." He grinned in anticipation.

Hermione rolled her eyes and stood up. "When are you boys going to grow up?" she sighed.

Draco didn't bother to answer her. "Where am I going to sleep?"

"I'll go ask to Mrs Weasley. I'll be back in a minute," said Hermione, trotting out of the room.

Draco stretched. "I'll get ready for bed while she's gone. I'm first in the bathroom!" He got to his feet. "Got any pyjamas, Harry?" he asked.

"I have one pair of pyjamas. Do you want have tops or bottoms, Draco?" said Harry.

Draco burst out laughing, and Harry wondered what he'd said that was so funny.

"Top, but I wouldn't say no to bottom," said Draco, winking in a way Harry didn't understand.

Not sure how to respond, Harry balled up the top of his pyjamas and tossed them to Draco, who grinned knowingly and sauntered out.

"Why did Draco laugh about tops and bottoms, Ron?" asked Harry, when Draco had gone.

"Not a clue, mate."

"Lucky he said top. If he'd said bottoms, everyone would have been able to see my knobbly knees."

"You're far too sensitive about them," said Ron, yawning.

"That's because they look like cauliflowers," mumbled Harry. "If Draco saw them, he'd never let me forget about them. You know what he's like."

"Yeah, I know," Ron grinned. "Though he's been rather good today. He was nice to Hermione. Maybe too nice," he added jealously.

There were noisy footsteps outside and Hermione walked in. "Draco!" she said, but soon saw he had gone. "Where is he?"

"Bathroom," said Harry.

"Tell him Mrs Weasley said there aren't any beds left, so he's either got to share or sleep on the floor," said Hermione. She looked quite angry.

"Hermione, you and me could share your bed downstairs and that would leave this bed free for Draco," said Ron eagerly.

Mrs Weasley stuck her head through the door, "Over my dead body, Ronald Weasley!"

"Aww, Mum!"

"Draco can sleep in my bed," said Harry firmly, though a part of him wondered how much the Slytherin would complain about this new sleeping arrangement.

"The Death Eater doesn't deserve it, Harry. He should go on the floor." Mrs Weasley's voice was unusually fierce.

"No," said Harry. "And he's not a Death Eater any more."

Mrs Weasley hesitated, and then shrugged, "Well, it's your bed. Goodnight then!"

"Goodnight, Mrs Weasley," said Harry.

"'Night, Mum!" grumbled Ron.

Hermione waited until Mrs Weasley was walking downstairs before she said a passionate goodnight to Ron. Harry politely looked the other way.

Eventually she and Ron tore themselves away from each other. "Goodnight, Harry," said Hermione. "Say goodnight to Draco for me," she added as she left the room.

"Speaking of Draco, where IS he?" muttered Ron.

"He always takes forever in the bathroom," said Harry.

"I wish he'd hurry up, I'm busting here," said Ron peevishly. "Let's go wait by the bathroom door."

The bathroom door was shut and Draco spent an abnormally long time in there, even for him. Harry listened at the door and was certain he heard a quill scratching. Eventually, Ron's thumps on the door and yells brought him out.

"About time!" said Ron, who had been jumping around cross-legged for the last twenty minutes. He dived into the bathroom.

"Nice legs!" teased Harry. Draco was only wearing his blue and white striped pyjama top and a pair of Harry's black silk boxer shorts. His legs were long and shapely and he promptly started posing and showing them off. Harry laughed. "Hermione says goodnight and Mrs Weasley said there aren't any beds left, Draco." He hesitated. "Do you want to share mine?" he asked, half expecting his offer to be thrown back in his face.

"I'd love to!" beamed Draco.

"I could always sleep on the floor and let you have the bed ... what do you mean you'd love to?" Harry stared at him in amazement.

"Exactly what I said, Harry," said Draco, sauntering back towards Harry and Ron's bedroom and glancing back over his shoulder.

When Harry returned to the bedroom, Ron was already tucked up in his own bed, and Draco was tucked up in Harry's. "Nice chest!" Draco smirked. Harry was only wearing the bottom part of his blue and white striped pyjamas and his chest was bare. He flexed his arms at Draco jokingly.

"Hedwig's gone," yawned Ron, pointing at her empty perch.

Harry barely spared Hedwig's perch or the open window a glance. "She always goes out hunting around this time of night."

Draco said nothing but slid over as far as he could and pulled the blankets down so that Harry could get in and he did, feeling how pleasantly Draco's body had warmed the sheets.

The single bed had never seemed quite so small. Draco smelt of soap, toothpaste and a pleasant natural sweetness but all Harry could think about was his Legilimency attack and the way he had poisoned Dumbledore. How could Draco bear to share a bed with him? He tried to give Draco as much room as possible, so that they wouldn't touch, because he expected Draco to flinch away. But it was impossible to find that much space in a single bed and when they did touch, Draco didn't flinch. They were sharing a pillow and their hair spread out over it and mixed together - white-blond and black.

Ron watched them from his bed.

"How do you sleep?" asked Draco.

"What do you mean?" asked Harry.

"I mean on your back? Your side?"

"On my back usually, sometimes on my side."

"I sleep on my side. So make yourself comfortable and so will I."

Some embarrassed thrashing ensued. Harry flushed as he found himself touching and almost climbing over Draco in an intimate fashion he wouldn't have thought was possible a day before. Harry eventually settled on his back with Draco lying snuggled up by his side. He took off his glasses and put them and his wand on the bedside table. Now he couldn't see - only feel. Draco's warm breath tickled his ear and he knew if he turned his head they would be face to face.

"Comfortable, Harry?" murmured Draco. Harry felt Draco's arm creep across his naked chest and his hand come to rest on his shoulder.

"Yes, I am," said Harry, feeling surprised that it was true. Usually Harry lay awake in his cold bed, waiting to warm up before he could sleep. But Draco's embrace flooded him with warmth. His cold feet were against Draco's warm ones and Draco's hand caressed his shoulder.

Harry felt the caress and wondered aloud. "How can you stand me?" he asked miserably.

The hand stopped caressing his shoulder. "What do you mean?"

"You're sharing a bed with someone who forced Legilimency upon you," said Harry, and hated himself for sounding pathetic.

The hand started stroking his shoulder again. "To be perfectly honest Harry, I didn't mind you looking at my childhood memories. It was nice to see Mother alive again," whispered Draco. Harry turned his head. Draco's grey eyes were sad and bright. Harry put his hand on top of the hand on his shoulder and gave it a sympathetic squeeze.

Draco smiled and whispered, "There's something I wanted to ask you. Did Cho cry when you snogged her?" His face was very close to Harry's and Harry could feel his breath against his face. Draco seemed to be breathing a little faster now.

"Yes, Cho cried," murmured Harry.

"She absolutely bawled, when I kissed her. That's the reason I didn't go further. She's the worst snog I ever had."

Harry's heart gave a strange leap. He'd harboured a sneaking, mortifying suspicion ever since he had dated Cho that his kisses made girls cry. Now he knew Cho made a habit of crying. Harry laughed in relief and gently bumped foreheads with Draco.

"Cho's a bit of a basket case, and I include as proof, the fact that she snogged you before she snogged me, Harry," Draco teased. Suddenly his eyes opened wide and he laughed out loud. Harry was tickling his bare leg.

"You two look like you're enjoying yourselves over there. When are you announcing your engagement?" Ron cackled.

Harry felt Draco's body tense against him. He tensed himself, realising what he and Draco must look like in bed together. "Don't be ridiculous, Ron," Harry heard himself snarl.  
Without another word, he turned his back on Draco.

But Draco pressed up from behind and pushed them into the spoon position, his belly against Harry's back, his breath rustling Harry's hair and his hand around Harry's chest under the blanket.

"Nox!" said Ron, and the bedroom became dark. "Goodnight," he yawned.

Lying there in the warm, sensual darkness, Harry knew he needed to sleep, but couldn't remember ever feeling more awake. Draco lifted himself slightly and Harry shivered as he felt a pair of warm lips brush his ear and he heard the tiniest whisper.

"I'll tell you something when Ron's asleep."

Harry did not reply. Lying in Draco's arms, with Draco's hand stroking gently over his chest, and his breath tickling his ear, he was as tense and tingling as he ever had been in his life. The monster in his chest growled. He stifled a gasp as Draco's hand brushed a nipple (accidentally, surely!) and hoped the hand on his chest would not slide lower and find the evidence of what he was feeling like right now. He wondered if Draco would know what he was up to if he excused himself and locked himself in the bathroom for five minutes.

He heard Ron's first snore of the evening. Familiar chainsaw rips. No one could snore like Ron.

Then Draco's lips were on his ear again and he felt as well as heard the breathless whisper. "You're so tense, Harry. You have much pent up emotion. I think I know how I can help you perform Occlumency. There's something you really need."

"What?" whispered Harry into the darkness.

"You may not like it Harry. I'll have to find out what you think about it before I ... try anything."

"Anything, I'll do it."

"Good," Draco purred and Harry felt himself go so tense and hard that Draco should have been able to break him over his knee like a board. "What a shame we don't have any privacy."

"What do we need privacy for? What have you got planned?" whispered Harry nervously.

Draco took a deep breath that rustled Harry's hair. "Harry James Potter. I think what you need is a good, hard-"

THUD!

Harry felt it more than heard it. It was the sound of something very large and heavy hitting the first stair in the kitchen. There was silence for a moment, and then the sound came again, slightly closer.

THUD!

"What was that?" whispered Draco. Something huge was walking up the stairs. The banister creaked.

"It must be a member of the Order going to bed," whispered Harry, but then came a low, deep growl from out in the stairwell.

"Oh no! Not him!" moaned Draco faintly.

"Who?" Harry whispered back urgently.

"Fenrir Greyback!" whispered Draco, and he sounded slightly hysterical. "I used to hear him prowling around when I was still with the Death Eaters. He used to growl like that and I'd be lying there trying to sleep, wondering if he was going to come in and bite me." Draco trembled against Harry's back.

"How could Fenrir have gotten into the Headquarters? It's warded."

"I don't know," hissed Draco. The growl came again. Closer this time. "Harry, our bedroom door is open. He could walk right in!"

A heavy foot scraped a stair. Whatever was climbing up, it had nearly reached their door.

Harry sat up. "I'll go see," he whispered.

Draco's hand went to his throat. "Oh, no you don't, Harry. I'm the bodyguard. This is my job. If Fenrir's outside I'll handle him. I still haven't forgiven him for showing up at Hogwarts." Though he was trembling, Draco pulled his wand out of pyjamas, climbed out of bed, with a faint creaking of bedsprings and padded to the door.

Harry put his glasses on and picked up his wand from the bedside table. He toyed with the idea of waking Ron, but that would alert the creature outside.

Draco took a stance by the door, determination clear on his face in the light from the streetlights outside, and with a wave of his wand he aimed a silent spell at whatever was walking up the stairs. His spell lit up the whole room with a burning flash of red.

The growl outside rose to a terrifying roar of rage.

oOoOoOo

**_Author's Notes:_**_ Draco's really laying it on thick at the start of this chapter. Such a manipulative little, injury-faking Slytherin! ;-)_

_Please, please review, as your comments make it easier to write the next chapter._

_**Replies to reviews:** _

_Chapter 14 received 29 reviews. Thank you to everyone who reviewed. mimifoxlove: Thanks for your review! Harry has a lot to make up for, and Draco knows how! Let's see how Ron feels about Draco after the Virginity Trap. Bishou: Thank you! I'm making a conscious effort to copy Rowling's writing style, most notably in the way she ends many sentences in adverbs ("angrily", "sourly", "lazily"). Writing teachers and style books HATE adverbs, but who should I follow - a little ol' writing teacher or the author who has earned about a billion dollars? ;-) I don't like it when fanfics get too far away from the books either. I just read one that had Dumbledore suddenly turn out to be the bad guy in the last chapter. It stopped my suspension of belief because I was thinking, 'Uh, no way!' Snogging will begin in the next chapter and there will be far more hard-core things than snogging in the chapter after that, I promise. Sorry for making you wait so long! Kit turned Mighty: Thank you! There may just be some snogging Legilimency in the next chapter. After all, Draco's got a reputation to protect! Shame Ness2: Thanks! I've been trying to keep everyone in character and write as I hope Rowling would write if she were writing for adult slash-lovers! (I wish she were...) miME-chan: Thanks for reading the whole thing in one sitting. Geez, that's nearly 29,000 words. Your eyes must be nearly popping out of your head! ;-) Draco wanted to get close to Harry, but of course he couldn't, so he got close to someone else who had - Cho - and had a similar experience to Harry's. What IS wrong with that girl? ;-) NinjaoftheDarkness: Thanks! It will get increasingly cutesy as Harry and Draco start to trust each other. Queen Vampiress: Thank you! The twins may yet redeem themselves. The snogging starts next chapter. DarkNinjaBunneh: But kinky is good! ;-) darkend-angelz-wingz: (Hugs!) Thanks for being my beta! The Earth Mystic: Thanks! I'm guessing that Rita Skeeter isn't powerful enough to do Legilimens - or she wouldn't need that Quick Quotes Quill! Rita Skeeter will pop up later! kelly: Thanks! You got their personalities exactly right. Danish Pastry 28: Thanks! Harry is starving for love and this will cause more problems. As far as needing a wand for Occlumency and Legilimency are concerned...Snape was holding his wand during Harry's first Occlumency lesson, as Harry looks at it apprehensively. So I extrapolated from that, that it would be necessary to be holding a wand and thinking or saying the word 'Occlumens' at the same time. (As you hold your wand and say 'Legilimens' to do Legilimency.) Rowling isn't very clear about Harry doing this in the text, and it might explain why Harry failed so abysmally to keep Snape out of his mind. Voldemort no doubt did a thorough job of Legilimency on Snape when he joined the Death Eaters as a teenager and perhaps assumes that he does not need to do it again, or perhaps Snape is now much better at Occlumency that Voldemort realises. As for Dumbledore - I have a theory about the reason he trusted Snape. It doesn't require Legilimency and I'll be writing it into this fanfic later on. How did Harry manage to break into Draco's mind when even Snape could not? Let's just say, Harry has a lack of respect for rules and a tendency to think laterally that makes him a true Slytherin, even truer than Snape, who never tried to snatch Draco's wand. The Sorting Hat was dead right about Harry - and now Draco knows what the Sorting Hat said. emeraud.silver: Heh, heh, heh! ;-) T.Felton: Thank you! I'm worried that this chapter isn't as good as the last. MNP: Thank you so much, what a lovely review! lisa: There was only one single word I put in there as a clue and you spotted it! Well done. ;-) Wayra: The Malfoys truly love each other and this (despite their obvious cruelty to those outside their family) makes them unsuitable as Death Eaters and might help to explain why Voldemort has given up on them enough to give Draco the 'get Dumbledore' suicide mission. Only the truly loveless, like Bellatrix, are natural Death Eaters because it makes them similar to Voldemort, who has never loved or been loved by anyone. Even though the Malfoys are cruel, their cruelty has limits. I shook my head when I reread GoF recently and got to the part where Death Eaters, presumably headed by Lucius Malfoy, attack Muggles at the Quidditch World Cup. With so many torturous and deadly spells at his disposal, Lucius limited himself to flashing the knickers of unconscious muggles. Nasty, childish, and just a tad pervy, but sorry, Lucius, no Evil Cigar for you. You're not bad enough! ;-) ProperT: I've just been writing the Virginity Trap scene. I hope it's fun! Potter's Wifey: Thank you. ;-) Nekokonneko: I feel a bit sorry for Cho. I wonder why she always cries! ;-) Autumn: Thanks. ;-) Yellowwolf: Yes, Harry's really, REALLY oblivious. I LOVE writing oblivious Harry! Sadly, he's going to get a Draco-sized wake up call next chapter. Sarah: Thank you for your review. Draco's parents are bad but definitely not evil. Bellatrix and Voldemort, on the other hand, are evil. Yes, Molly Weasley does seem to believe in the Daily Prophet's lies just a bit too much but she's not the only one! I'm not sure how to get Lucius out of Azkaban, but I agree he should get out. (Have you seen the Jason Isaacs's OotP interview video at the Leaky Cauldron website, where he begged Rowling to get him out of prison? It's hysterical!) wizli: I'm sure Draco will come up with ways Harry can make it up to him! Good on you for spotting that single word as well! Katharina-B: You're exactly right! Common enemies help people be friends. ;-) HecateDeMort: Thank you. Kuroi Enkou: Thanks. Crowley Black: Harry and Draco learned a LOT about each other, but there is more to learn. I shall be sad when Harry gets a clue, but I know I can't keep writing oblivious Harry. GreenEyedCatDragon: Poor Draco doesn't have much of a choice. He has to teach Harry Occlumency. _


	16. Double Bed

_**Author's Note:** This chapter includes Snogging Legilimency for Kit turned Mighty._

_Soundtrack to this chapter is Growing On Me by The Darkness._

oOoOoOo

**The Bodyguard**

**Chapter 16: Double Bed**

"I KNEW YOU'D TRY SOMETHING, LADDIE!" came a familiar roar from out in the stairwell.

Harry's heart gave a leap of relief. It wasn't Fenrir Greyback out there, it was Mad-Eye Moody! But before he could say anything, there was a blue-white flash as Moody aimed a spell at Draco. It lit up the whole room like a streak of lightning and struck Draco's hastily raised shield spell with a sound like a vast, cracked bell tolling.

"Stop!" Harry shouted. He didn't remember getting off the bed but somehow he was standing there by the door. Lumos, he thought, and raised the light from his wand up high. He saw Draco's pale, grim face nearby and out in the stairwell, Moody's heavily scarred face, which was suffused with rage.

"Get out of the way, Harry," roared Moody. He was wearing a white nightshirt and his feet, the real one and the wooden one, were bare. His wand was raised and the tip glowed green.

"Don't shoot! Stop it, both of you!" yelled Harry, positioning himself between the two of them. "Draco was protecting me, Moody. We heard you coming up the stairs and we thought you were Fenrir."

Moody did not lower his wand. "Fenrir's not here. No Death Eater can get in. Apart from THAT ONE!" he snarled, pointing at Draco with a thick finger.

"Draco's my bodyguard. He was only doing his job. Sorry, Moody, we heard growling and we didn't know it was you," said Harry desperately.

"Harry's right. Sorry," said Draco in his most polite voice. He lowered his wand.

Moody snorted. "I don't growl," he growled. Then his real eye blinked, and his scarred face scrunched up a little in realisation. Very slowly, he lowered his wand.

"You did. All the way up the stairs. You should have heard yourself," said Harry, who was leaning on the doorframe with relief that Fenrir was not there, and Moody was backing down.

"I was having a little trouble with the stairs, that's all!" muttered Moody. He gave a little totter of what appeared to be exhaustion.

Harry looked at him with concern. "Come in and sit down, Moody," he said. "It must have been a terrible shock."

"I'm never shocked," boasted Moody. "Constant vigilance!" But he seemed happy enough to limp inside, past Draco, to whom he gave an intimidating glare, which Draco did not return. The old Auror sank down onto Harry's bed with a groan of relief.

Ron was sitting up in his bed, wide-awake, glancing from person to person with his mouth open. "What happened?" he gasped.

"False alarm, Ron, go back to sleep," said Harry soothingly.

Ron nodded seriously. "False alarm. Oh good!" he said, and lay down. The moment his head touched the pillow, he began to snore again.

Moody tugged at his wooden leg and removed it with a growl of relief.

"Where are you sleeping?" Harry asked Moody.

"Molly's got me sleeping in the attic room, up seven flights of stairs," Moody grumbled, rubbing his stump of a leg.

Draco's eyes brightened with suppressed excitement. "That's a lot of stairs," he said in a sympathetic tone.

Harry glanced at him. He could tell Draco was up to something and he wasn't the only one. Moody gave Draco a hard look and went back to rubbing his stump.

"It's a shame Mrs Weasley has you sleeping all the way up there when there are bedrooms closer to the ground. Like this one, for instance. Would you prefer to sleep here instead of the attic, Professor Moody? Harry and I could swap with you and save you the trouble of climbing all those stairs," said Draco sweetly.

"Well, look at you handing out other people's beds. This bed isn't yours to offer. It belongs to Harry," said Moody, his magical blue eye spinning. He was still out of breath from climbing the stairs and his impromptu wand battle.

Harry had seen Draco sucking up to adults on numerous occasions but this was the first time he'd ever wanted to back him up. "I think it's a great idea, Moody. You're welcome to swap beds with me. I can pack my trunk and be out of here in no time and you won't even have to get up."

Moody looked as though he were considering the idea. He rubbed his stump thoughtfully and then he grunted. "Very well. But keep an eye on your Death Eater. He's up to something." Despite his serious words, he winked his real eye at Harry.

Harry grinned. "He's permanently up to something, he's a Slytherin."

Draco muttered something that may have been, "Bloody Gryffindor!" and stashed his wand inside his pyjama jacket.

Harry took a step towards the door. "We'll go and fetch your trunk, Moody."

"No need!" said Moody. He flicked his wand at the ceiling. For a few seconds, nothing seemed to have happened, then Harry saw Moody's trunk come floating down the stairs. Moody glanced at Draco as if hoping to intimidate him with this powerful piece of remote magic. Draco raised his eyebrows but said nothing. He stepped away from the door to let Moody's trunk float inside.

"Good," said Harry. "Give me just a second to get packed up." He waved his wand at his clothes on the floor and they and quite a few of the sweet wrappers that were lying on the floor with them jumped into his trunk. He closed the lid and thought, Wingardium Leviosa! and his trunk floated up to waist height. "'Night," he said casually, trying to hide how triumphant he was, and headed up the stairs, followed by Draco, who closed the door behind him.

oOoOoOo

The attic bedroom was large and irregularly shaped, with slanted walls that followed the line of the roof. Once it had been the warehouse office and it still bore evidence of its previous use. The walls were covered with faded paper signs bearing words like 'Invoices' and old Muggle movie posters. Harry could see the cloudy, night sky through a round window, like a ship's portal, on one of the walls. A plain queen-sized bed, covered with an old and worn, but clean patchwork quilt, nearly filled the room. There was a battered bedside table on one side of the bed and the foot of the bed faced an ornate, old-fashioned cast-iron fireplace. On the far wall, Harry could see a half-open door leading to a room covered in white tiles. Compared to Harry's previous room, it was a paradise.

"Excellent!" Draco was grinning from ear to ear. He flicked his wand at the fireplace and a fire blazed up, and filled the room with light and warmth. Then he threw himself on one side of the bed, putting his hands behind his head in an attitude of proud achievement. "Don't I get you the best stuff, Harry?"

Harry laughed and set down his trunk. "Yeah, good going, Draco," he said.

"This calls for a celebration. Fancy a drink?"

"I think Mrs Weasley has some Butterbeers downstairs."

"Butterbeers?" said Draco with a trace of a sneer. "I can do better than that!" He pointed his wand at the bedside table and two glasses appeared, full of smoking, fiery liquid.

"Is that Firewhiskey?" said Harry in fascination. He threw himself down on the bed, next to Draco.

"Naturally," said Draco smugly.

"I never could make Firewhiskey," Harry confessed. "I never knew anyone in Gryffindor who could. Though I don't think Hermione's ever tried."

"I can do any drink spell," Draco boasted. He jabbed his wand at the glasses. "Mulled mead." The liquid went golden and stopped smoking. "Gillywater." The liquid went pink. "Redcurrent rum." The liquid darkened to crimson. "Pansy even made me learn those awful girly drinks that have fruit and cream and those little umbrellas at the top." Draco made a face and didn't bother to wave his wand. "But my favourite is Firewhiskey." He flicked his wand at the glasses and the liquid started churning and smoking again.

Harry burst out laughing in amazement. "That's incredible!"

Draco beamed at Harry's compliment and his cheeks went pink. Harry was strongly reminded of the embarrassed but extremely pleased way Hermione responded to compliments. But Draco seemed to be making an effort to keep his voice casual, despite his rosy cheeks. "ALL the best parties are in Slytherin."

Harry laughed again and picked up the glasses. They were burning hot. He quickly handed one to Draco and he moved his hand further up his own glass to stop it burning his fingers.

Draco leaned over and clinked their glasses. "Cheers Harry! To being friends at last!" he said. His cheeks were still pink.

Harry raised his glass to take a sip and stopped. He remembered Moody's warning. Was Draco really up to something, and if so, what? Was it safe to drink around him? A voice very like Hermione's whispered in his ear, 'You shouldn't be drinking Firewhiskey around a Death Eater you've been enemies with for seven years and friends with for only one day.' But a voice very like Ron's whispered in his other ear, 'Drink up, Harry! Free Firewhiskey and no one to catch you drinking it! Draco is the coolest friend ever!' The Firewhiskey boiled in Harry's glass. He could feel the heat coming off it and the smoke tickled his nose. He sneezed and nearly spilled it.

Draco paused with his glass halfway to his lips. "You're supposed to drink it, not sniff it. What's the matter, Harry? Haven't you ever had Firewhiskey before?"

Harry never had, but he would have danced naked wearing Dobby's tea-cosy before he admitted it to Draco. "Umm," he said, his eyes flicking to the left.

Draco saw and his grey eyes flashed challengingly. "Maybe I should give you a drink you can handle. A Gillywater, perhaps?" He raised his wand.

At the mention of the wizarding world's girly drink, Harry scowled. "I can handle Firewhiskey," he said. He took a large swig and tried to look cool, but it was all he could do not to spit it out. It burned like a mouthful of Skele-Grow. He barely managed to swallow, and gasped for breath, trying to cool his tongue. He could feel the Firewhiskey burning its way down into his stomach and he gagged. "Delicious," he lied, with streaming eyes.

"It is." Draco took a large swig. He did not gasp but there was a stoic expression his face as he swallowed.

Harry's stomach churned. He could feel the Firewhiskey burning away down there and wondered where he could get his stomach pumped at short notice before it burned a hole right through him. But after a few moments, the heat in his stomach became comforting and exciting. Tendrils of warmth and relaxation spread down through his limbs. He could see Draco watching him.

"Good, isn't it?" Draco said. He flicked his wand and their glasses filled themselves back up to the brim.

"You can do the Refilling Charm too. Amazing! I've managed that once, and that was with luck potion," Harry heard himself say. Draco beamed. "Let me guess, you think it's easy," said Harry, and Draco grinned even more and looked like Harry had just made his night.

"Father and Mother made me practice drinks spells endlessly. They wanted me to be the perfect host and make a splash in magical society," Draco said, and winked at Harry.

Normally, Harry would have frowned at the mention of Draco's father, but the Firewhiskey in his stomach had other ideas and he smiled instead. He took another swig. The second mouthful of Firewhiskey burned, but not as much as the first and the warmth and relaxation spread throughout Harry's body. "Lovely," he said and slid his way up the bed until he was leaning against the backboard, his legs stretched out in front of him. Draco lay beside him. They both watched the flickering, red light of the fire at the foot of the bed and drank.

But Hermione's whisper was getting louder in Harry's mind and he voiced his concern aloud. "I shouldn't drink too much."

"I know some charms to stop hangovers," said Draco. "Let go, Harry. Let your hair down for once in your life. You deserve it, you nearly died last night." He clinked glasses with Harry. "To life!" he toasted, and they both took another swig.

"I'm only still here, thanks to you," said Harry. He was surprised to hear his voice slurring slightly. "You saved my life, Draco!"

"Was a pleasure to save you," replied Draco, a little thickly.

Harry burped and was overcome with laughter when a jet of flame shot out of his mouth, like a dragon.

Draco laughed too. "Better out than in," he snickered, and he refilled their glasses with a flick of his wand.

oOoOoOo

Harry had never been drunk before. He wasn't sure how much he'd had to drink because he'd lost track of the number of times Draco had refilled his glass. Hermione's warning whisper had faded to nothing and all Harry knew was how happy he was to be lying on the bed with Draco in the red firelight. He was relaxed and languid, every single thing seemed hysterically funny and he was convinced that Draco was the best friend he'd ever had.

"Don't want you to think I really HATED you all these years, Draco. You made my life pretty interesting," said Harry thickly and chuckled. He tried to clink glasses with Draco, missed Draco's glass entirely, steered his glass shakily to his lips and took another delicious, warming swig. He decided he loved Firewhiskey.

"I didn't hate you either," Draco smirked. "Well, MOST of the time I didn't hate you. It's funny to think I'm sort of your slave or servant now, because of the Vow."

"You're my FRIEND, Draco," said Harry thickly. "I ORDER you to be my friend! We don't need ... silly Vow."

Draco smiled. He refilled Harry's glass and Harry stared curiously.

"What's your wand made of?" he asked.

"Hawthorn and unicorn tail hair." Draco didn't seem very drunk at all, but somehow Harry couldn't make himself care. He remembered his Herbology lessons.

"Hawthorn? But that's the tree of love!"

Draco looked defensive. "Yes, hawthorn is the tree of love, marriage and beauty," he said. "Also of protection and dispelling negative energy. I'll have you know it's one of the most powerful wand wood trees. But it's also considered very unlucky because of the thorns."

"So your wand means you're loving, prickly, beautiful, protective, and a destroyer of evil things? And you thought you could be a Death Eater, with a wand like that?"

"That must be where the unlucky part comes in," said Draco. "So I'm beautiful, am I?"

Harry felt himself go crimson. "Uh, that's just your wand."

But Draco didn't look convinced. "One sniff of the barmaid's apron and the truth comes out," he smirked.

"I'm not drunk, Draco!" Harry insisted, slurring his words. He burped flame again and giggled uncontrollably.

Draco refilled Harry's glass. "Of course, you're not drunk. You're just happy. So what's YOUR wand made out of, Harry?"

Harry looked at his wand and waggled it until sparks flew out. "It's holly and phoenix feather," he said. But the Firewhiskey urged him to say more. "This is a really special wand, Draco. The phoenix that gave the feather is called Fawkes and used to belong to Albus Dumbledore. Fawkes also gave the feather that is at the core of Voldemort's wand. Our wands are brothers and they can't fight each other. When we try, my wand forces his wand to regurgitate all the spells it has performed in reverse." A sober part of Harry's head screamed at the other parts in alarm and he glanced in horror at Draco. "I shouldn't have said that!"

Draco was looking very serious and grown up indeed and Harry was more convinced than ever that he was still mostly sober. "You're right you shouldn't have told me that, Harry. Don't tell me anything unless I really need to know. It's not safe."

Harry looked at Draco and felt a drunken flood of affection. He draped an arm around his shoulder. "You're always taking care of me!" he said thickly and gave Draco a squeeze, but he released him quickly when he saw those intense grey eyes up close.

"You need someone to take care of you, Harry," said Draco. He handed his glass to Harry, who put it on the bedside table, and he slid down the bed to Harry's feet. He crossed his long, bare legs, picked up Harry's right foot and started to massage it.

Harry watched in fascination. Draco's hands were warm and knew exactly how to touch him. The Slytherin's head was bowed, and his white-blond hair hung down over his face. His long, pale hands worked away at Harry's toes and then slid down to his instep. It felt so good.

"I've never had a massage from a boy before. Though you're really pretty for a boy," Harry heard himself saying, then froze when he realised what he had said. He expected Draco to pounce on this statement and taunt him half to death, but Draco only glanced up through his long curtains of hair and smiled, before looking down again. His hands were working their way up the back of Harry's calf muscle and he lifted Harry's pyjama pants leg up.

Harry gave a start and tried to stop him, but the Firewhiskey had slowed his reflexes. Harry's shameful, knobbly knee was revealed in all its glory and Draco stopped, stared and laughed. "What do you call this then, Harry?" he asked, looking up with a cheeky grin.

"My knee," said Harry sourly, wondering at Draco's unerring ability to find a person's vulnerabilities and prod at them.

"Call this a knee? It looks like a cauliflower," Draco smirked. Harry tried to pull his leg back, but Draco spread his warm hands over Harry's knee and massaged gently.

It felt so good, Harry lost the urge to pull away. He lay back against the pillow, drank some more Firewhiskey and hoped that he wasn't pouting.

"So have many people have seen your knobbly knees before, or am I in exalted company, Chosen One?" Draco teased gently, his grey eyes twinkling through his curtains of white-blond hair.

Even drunk, Harry could tell Draco wasn't just talking about knees. He blushed. "That's private, Draco, and don't call me Chosen One. It makes me sound like the hero in some silly Muggle kung fu movie," Harry said, remembering one movie in particular that Dudley played over and over.

"I didn't do Muggle Studies, and I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about," said Draco. He pulled down Harry's pyjama pants leg, refilled Harry's glass with a flick of his wand, and started massaging Harry's other foot.

"It's not important," murmured Harry thickly. He lay back down again with his hot glass resting on his chest and closed his eyes, luxuriating in the touch of Draco's hands. Harry was looking at the darkness behind his eyelids when he heard Draco chuckle.

"I'm still waiting for an answer, Harry. How many people have seen your knobbly knees?" Draco chuckled wickedly and added: "And the rest of your body?"

Harry didn't bother to open his eyes in case Draco read the truth there. "Lots!" he lied valiantly.

"Tell me about them."

"I'd rather hear about your sex life first!"

If Harry had wanted to embarrass Draco, he was disappointed. The Slytherin's grin was obvious from the tone of his voice.

"You want to hear about MY sex life, Harry? How long have you got?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Draco. You've had, like, ONE date in your whole life," Harry pointed out, opening his eyes.

Draco simply burst out laughing. "Where did you get that idea?"

"You were at the Yule Ball with Pansy Parkinson. That's the only time I've ever seen you out with someone," said Harry defensively. He took a sip of Firewhiskey.

"Well, look who's been stalking me," Draco laughed. "I bet you think I flaunt all my partners in front of you. I don't. I've done plenty that you haven't heard of."

"Rubbish!" Harry bellowed with a smile. Draco's fingers were stroking tenderly along his instep.

"That's right, I'm talking to the boy who spent his whole life in detention or in the library with Hermione Granger," Draco said and Harry frowned. "Me? I had my nights free to par-TAY!" The Slytherin punched a fist skywards and whooped.

"All right then, who have you slept with?" asked Harry, unable to control his curiosity, though he also wondered how much longer he'd be able to resist wiping that smug look off Draco's face.

Draco stared at Harry for moment. "Typically direct and rude of you, Harry. But I'll tell you on one condition."

"What condition?"

Draco sat up straighter, with a wicked grin. "On the condition you tell me about YOUR sex life next. If there's anything to tell," he added mockingly.

"I have so had a sex life," said Harry, thinking of all the snogging he had done with Cho and Ginny. "All right, I'll tell you about mine if you tell me about yours!"

"It's a deal," Draco drawled. He gave Harry a challenging look. "But snoggings don't count. It's got to be shaggings." Harry had never seen Draco looking so pleased with himself. "So, how many have I shagged?" Draco started counting on his fingers in a way that made Harry want to hit him, "First of all - Pansy Parkinson," he said.

"That Slytherin girl that looks like a pug?" Harry sneered.

Draco sat up furiously and glared. "And you call ME a bastard, Harry. You should hear yourself sometimes."

"I bet you did it doggy style."

"You're going to get a pillow in your face in a minute, POTTER!"

"Don't, you might spill my drink," said Harry thickly.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Pansy's not a pug, say it Potter," he sighed.

"Okay, okay," said Harry, feeling Draco massaging up his calf muscle and almost purring.

"Pansy's a nice girl. Too nice for me. Bwahahaha!" Draco gave a long, theatrical, evil laugh.

"Knock it off, Draco. All right then - Pansy Parkinson. Anyone else?"

"Millicent Bulstrode."

"Millicent Bulstrode?" cried Harry in horror, instinctively crossing his legs. He mimed vomiting with suitable gagging noises.

Draco laughed, but didn't come to Millicent's defence. "Well, yes ... she must have slipped me a love potion. I only spent one night with her and when I woke up in the morning I ran for it. I wouldn't want to go through that again. Her cat scratched me on ... on a sensitive place-" He trailed off as Harry howled with laughter and managed to spill part of his Firewhiskey over his chest. Yelping, Harry sat up and wiped his chest with his hands, licking his fingers so that he didn't waste any.

Draco refilled Harry's glass and waited until he was lying down again. "Roll over on your stomach, Harry. I'll do your back," he said. Harry put his glass on the bedside table and obeyed. He felt Draco's warm hands descend upon his naked shoulders.

"Mmmm! So who else, then?" Harry asked. Draco's hands were working their way down his back.

"Oh, loads," Harry heard Draco saying in a lazy, superior manner. "Maisy Prewett. Tina Nott, Druella Rosier, and Luna Lestrange-"

"I haven't heard of those girls," said Harry suspiciously, his voice somewhat muffled by his pillow.

"They've all left school."

"How convenient. So how did you meet them if they actually exist and they're no longer at school?"

"Their parents got in touch with mine and arranged for us to ... meet," said Draco with an audible smirk. "They were all pure-blood girls looking for marriage." Harry heard Draco make vomiting sounds and laughed. "My parents wanted me to get to know them. So I did! Not quite the way my Mother had in mind!"

"I don't believe you, Draco," said Harry.

"If you don't, then look into my eyes," said Draco.

Harry turned his head. "What? Do you mean Legilimency? Are you sure you trust me after what happened last time?"

There was a long pause. "I don't have a choice about trusting you, Harry. You may as well earn my trust back by doing something that isn't very important. Like Snogging Legilimency," Draco said slowly. He lifted his hands off Harry's back and Harry sat up.

"Snogging Legilimency?" Harry was incredulous.

Draco looked both apprehensive and amused. "I just made it up," he said. "Go on, Harry. Do it."

Taking a deep breath, Harry held his wand, looked Draco in the eye and said, "Legilimens!" The room disappeared.

Pansy Parkinson's school shirt was unbuttoned and she was a passionate clinch with Draco at the top of the Astronomy Tower ... Millicent Bulstrode's cat, a black, slinking, malevolent streak of evil, swiped at Draco's left nipple with razor sharp claws...

"Ow!" yelled Harry in sympathy.

Behind the Millicent Bulstrode memory came four memories in quick succession. Harry did not recognise any of the girls but Draco was definitely snogging them. Then, much deeper inside Draco's mind, Harry saw something else - something very strange. A tapestried bedroom, containing a vast four-poster bed, with its green drapes drawn. Bizarrely, the whole scene was swathed in a heavy mist and there was such a feeling of wild desire and desperate longing associated with the memory that Harry burned with curiosity and wanted to see more. But his resolve was stronger than last time. He pushed the memory away and left Draco's mind.

"That cat was EVIL," Harry said. He did not mention the misty bedroom.

Draco nodded and looked relieved it was over.

But Draco's trial was not over. Thinking back over the memories he had just seen, Harry noticed there was a common thread. "You gave all those girls you snogged Firewhiskey and a back massage, just like you've been giving to me," said Harry, looking at Draco with suspicion.

Draco muttered something inarticulate and his cheeks turned pink.

Then Harry laughed. "But I'm a boy! What do I have to be worried about?" he said, and wondered why Draco clapped a hand to his mouth. "So that's six girls you've shagged. Who else?"

Draco lowered his hand, and gazed slyly at Harry, watching for his reaction. "Blaise Zabini," he said at last.

"BLAISE ZABINI?" Harry was flabbergasted. "You mean that Slytherin in our year?"

"Who else?"

"But he's ... he's a BOY!" Harry was shocked. He grabbed his Firewhiskey and scooted to the opposite end of the bed, away from Draco.

"Oh, well spotted," said Draco dryly, sounding very like Hermione.

"You have sex with boys?" said Harry incredulously.

"No, we find a private room and practise Quidditch," Draco sneered. "Of COURSE, I have sex with boys!"

"But that's-" Harry spluttered.

Draco rolled his eyes impatiently. "I forgot, you hang around with Ron Weasley. Apart from Hermione, he's had about as much experience as a twelve year old. I bet he still thinks that sex is disgusting."

"Don't say that about Ron," said Harry warningly, though secretly he remembered Ron's own sister saying exactly the same thing.

"Ron's your best friend. I bet YOU still think sex is disgusting, Harry. Especially between men," Draco said sharply.

"Well, I think that-" Harry began with a look of disgust.

"DON'T SAY IT!" shouted Draco and his voice was suddenly as cold and as biting as ice. Harry fell silent as Draco's grey eyes bored into his like iron daggers. Harry felt the challenge and met it with his own glare.

"Don't tell me that the Golden Boy, the Chosen One, Mr. Perfect Harry Potter, the boy who told me this morning how I should think and how I should behave, is really a filthy bloody homophobe," said Draco in a soft, silky, dangerous voice.

Harry wrung his hands in the blankets and pretended that they were Draco's neck. "I'm NOT a homophobe, Draco. It's just that ... I was raised in the Muggle world. It's different there."

Draco's gaze did not drop. "How is it different?"

Feeling his cheeks burn, Harry said, "Being called gay is ... an insult. I can't imagine any boy in the Muggle school I went to coming out and admitting they slept with boys like you just did. Not unless they didn't mind getting beaten up." Harry frowned as he remembered, "When I was back at home living with my Muggle family, I used to have nightmares about Cedric Diggory's murder, and talk about him in my sleep. My cousin heard me talking and asked me if Cedric was my boyfriend. That was the worst thing he could have said." Harry's fists clenched involuntarily in fury.

Draco didn't reply right away; he watched Harry, with calculating eyes. "So what you're saying is that you ARE homophobic," he said delicately.

Harry stared into Draco's eyes, expecting a challenge and ready to fight back. But to his surprise, Draco's gaze was gentle, almost sympathetic and Harry caught his breath - he had always tried to be the best person he could be and a painful truth struck him. "Yes, Draco, I suppose I am," he admitted. He wondered at how the tables had turned since that morning. He had never imagined Draco Malfoy, of all people, would lecture him about morality! Let alone have something over Harry that he could actually lecture him about!

The thought made Harry laugh. "Okay, Draco, I concede the moral high ground to you on this occasion. You've been good to Hermione and Ron today, so it's only fair that I stop being homophobic."

Draco reached out his right hand. "Agreed, Harry. Shake on it?"

They shook hands. Draco sat down beside Harry who stared curiously at him.

"Are you gay?" asked Harry softly.

Draco gave a casual shrug. "Who knows? I'm young. Father says I should experiment and find out for myself."

With a chuckle of amazement, Harry said, "I can't see most Muggle fathers saying something like that."

"The evil, Muggle-hating, pure-blood magic world does have some advantages then," Draco said, then winked.

Harry shook his head in amazement and tried to get back to their previous conversation. "So, Blaise Zabini. Who else?" he asked.

"I had one of the Durmstrang students too. I forget his name. It had lots of Os and Es with curly things above them." Draco grinned wickedly and lay on his side, facing Harry. "He was older. Showed me a thing or two."

"I bet he did! Is that everyone?"

Draco made a show of thinking it over and counting on his fingers. Harry rolled his eyes but he was more entertained now than infuriated.

"That's everyone," said Draco.

Harry lay back on his bed, an arm's length from Draco. "Wow, I'm impressed," he said, and he was serious. He stared at the ceiling, deep in thought. He could sense Draco smiling at him.

The mood was quieter now. They lay side by side, in a companionable silence. Harry took another sip of Firewhiskey. He was thinking about life - and Draco. He felt a strange, tingling sensation all over that had been growing inside him all day - or had it always been there? - and he was trying to analyse it. How did he feel about his newest friend? He could feel grey eyes watching him and they made him feel flustered.

"Harry. I'm waiting," said Draco, in a soft, silky voice that made Harry's stomach turn over. He rolled closer to Harry.

Harry's body tingled. "W-whatever for, Draco?" he heard himself stutter.

"It's your turn, Harry," said Draco, his voice a purr.

"My t-turn for what?" Harry's first thought was that Draco meant it was his turn to shag him. He couldn't help but tense up all over.

Draco gave a long-suffering sigh and sat up gracefully. "Your turn to tell me about your sex life, Harry," he drawled lazily, but his eyes were bright and mischievous. "What did you think I was asking?"

Harry flushed. "Oh, that," he said. He wasn't sure if he was disappointed.

"So let's hear about it then - the sizzling sex life of the famous Harry Potter," said Draco, both enthusiastic and snide. He crossed his legs and rested his chin on his hands and his elbows on his knees, staring at Harry with the attitude of an eager listener. "I saw all those girls chasing you around Hogwarts in Sixth Year you lucky bastard! I bet you shagged every single one of them!"

Harry was taken aback. "No, I didn't," the Firewhiskey in him said, and he instantly wished that he'd kept his mouth shut. He also wished he hadn't drunk so much and decided not to have any more that night. He put his glass down on the bedside table and lay down again.

Draco's eyes opened wide. "You're having me on! They were begging for it," he said incredulously.

Harry's pride was vaguely relieved that Draco's response wasn't scorn but outright amazement. "They were silly, giggly girls and I didn't like any of them," he said.

Draco still looked stunned, "You don't have to like someone to shag them."

"I do," said Harry firmly.

Draco shook his head in astonishment and frustration, "Fame is completely wasted on you, Harry. Any other boy would shagging away like-"

Harry sat up quickly. "A big shaggy thing, I know. Look, Draco, I hated the way those girls kept following me around. Everywhere I went, there were girls giggling or trying to force themselves on me," said Harry.

"Poor Potter," said Draco, without a shred of sympathy in his voice.

Harry frowned. Why didn't he realise how annoying, how persistent, how UNATTRACTIVE those girls chasing him had been? "They kept trying to slip me love potions hidden in food," said Harry angrily. "Ron took one by mistake. I had to take him to Slughorn." A bad memory sprang to mind and Harry frowned, "That was the time when Ron drank that poisoned mead you'd put aside for Dumbledore." He glared furiously at Draco.

Draco looked alarmed, "Um, yeah, sorry about that." He changed the subject immediately. "But you still didn't get laid, even with all those girls and their love potions." A strange, hopeful look came over his face, "What's the matter, Harry? Don't you LIKE girls?"

Harry's face turned brick red with fury, "I do so like girls, Draco. Don't you dare suggest otherwise or I'll-"

"Homophobe," said Draco, his eyes suddenly cold and angry, and Harry fell silent.

After a pause, Harry said, "Sorry, I didn't mean that."

Draco nodded and did not say anything more about it. "So," he went on. "You didn't sleep with any of your groupies. But you have had girlfriends, Harry. So what sort of things did you get up to?" A greedy leer came over his face.

"Snogging," said Harry thickly, not liking this conversation at all.

"Sure," said Draco. "And-" he let his voice trail off.

Harry folded his arms and said nothing.

Draco's expression changed from confusion, to amazement, to triumph. "You're a VIRGIN?" he gasped.

Harry wished fervently that they'd never started this conversation. He frowned, and Draco let out a whoop that made Harry want to smash his face in. "You ARE a virgin!" shouted Draco, laughing fit to burst. "What went wrong? Didn't you fancy Ginny Weasley?"

"Of course I did! But we had no privacy and I always was on detention and we didn't get as far as-" Harry's voice trailed off and he scowled as he saw Draco's amusement.

"You were dating Cho Chang too. What happened there?" said Draco, adding with a wicked grin, "Or what DIDN'T happen?"

"None of your business, Draco," said Harry snapped. "I don't like talking about this. It's not respectful to the girls."

"Harry Potter: the virgin gentleman!"

"Shut UP, Draco!" Harry clenched his hands into fists on the blanket and he imagined they were clenched around Draco's throat.

Draco rolled around on the bed, hugging his pillow and laughing like a hyena.

"My sex life is none of your business, MALFOY," Harry snarled, finally losing his temper.

If Draco noted the use of his last name, he didn't give any indication. He thrashed on the bed hysterical with laughter. "What do you mean, 'None of MY business?' You're not DOING any business, Potter!"

"Malfoy, shut up!"

"Harry Potter's never been laid!" Draco shouted in a sing-song voice.

"Malfoy, I'm warning you!" Harry's drunken happiness had changed to drunken fury.

But Draco wasn't the least bit intimidated. With irrepressible cheek, he stood up on the bed and started a sing-song chant, complete with a matching dance. "The Chosen One's a VIRGIN! The Chosen One's a VIRGIN! The Chosen One's a VIRGIN!"

"Right, Malfoy, that does it!" roared Harry. He wrestled Draco down onto the bed, pinning down him by his shoulders. Draco laughed hysterically and wrestled back, managing to roll both of them over, so that Harry was pinned to the bed instead, but Harry, with a burst of fury, rolled them back. Before long, both were panting wildly, with mussed hair and clothes and Harry was enjoying himself more than he wanted to admit, especially when he pushed Draco down on his back, lay his whole body down on top of him and Draco stopped fighting back.

Draco lay there, looking up into Harry's eyes, and his hot breath, scented with Firewhiskey, tickled Harry's face. It was ... pleasant. Their mouths were almost touching, and Harry could feel Draco's arousal against his thigh. He wants to snog me, Harry thought. But Draco did not make a move and after a long moment, Harry recollected that Draco was a boy. He didn't want to be snogged by a boy. Did he? Harry rolled off Draco, moved to his own side of the bed and hugged his legs protectively to his chest, trying to ignore the creature in his chest, which was growling in disappointment.

If Draco were disappointed, he gave no indication. He moved gracefully to his side of the bed. His arousal, if anything, was more obvious than ever.

Harry couldn't take his eyes off it and it scared him. "You like me, Draco," he found himself saying stupidly.

"I hate you, Potter. I've hated you since the first day of school when you didn't want to be my friend," said Draco, but he was smiling, and his voice was amused and somewhat husky. Harry shivered at the sound of it.

"I mean, you really like me. I felt your ... just then." Harry babbled, pointing at Draco's crotch, and then he snatched his hand back and found himself blushing.

Draco looked down at his crotch and did an amusing faked double take of surprise at his own tented boxer shorts. "Well, you got me there, Potter. I DO like you after all," he chortled. Then he became serious. Mesmerising grey eyes met Harry's. In a lazy, sensual drawl that made Harry tremble, Draco said, "I think you'll find that the word isn't 'like', Potter. It's desire. As in, 'I desire you.'"

Harry hugged his legs tighter to his chest.

Seeing this, Draco stopped and looked frustrated. "Harry, it's not that big a deal. Boys fool around with their mates all the time."

"I don't want to ... I'm not like that!" said Harry, trying to cover himself. He stupidly found himself hating Draco for being nearly sober and being capable of putting articulate sentences together but he hated himself worse for having drunk so much.

"It'll be fun, I promise," said Draco softly. A slow, knowing smile spread across his face. "Not like that, you say? I'd say that's denial talking. Why don't you straighten those legs out, Harry? I get the impression you're trying to hide something."

"No!" Harry growled, blushing furiously and hugging even tighter. The alcohol was making his brain fuzzy.

Mesmerising grey eyes became cold. "You promised you stop being homophobic."

Harry stared at Draco, swallowed and slowly straightened his legs, until he was lying flat on the bed with his head on a pillow. He glared, as if daring him to make a sneering remark about the friskiness of a certain portion of his anatomy.

But Draco didn't seem capable of a sneering remark at that moment. He seemed lost for words. Silently, he drank Harry in with eyes, which to Harry's shock, were wet. Finally he mastered himself enough to speak.

"Harry Potter, you are GORGEOUS," Draco breathed.

Harry gave him a tiny smile, and it was enough to make the Slytherin reach out a hand and close the final distance. Harry felt his hand stroke, ever so lightly, over his cheek, down the side of his neck and over his chest.

Though Harry had gone through the motions of snogging before, it had always felt a bit mechanical. He'd heard it was meant to feel good, but had always scoffed at the notion of uncontrollable desire. Snogging was wet. That was about all you could say about it. Snogging Ginny was nice; she was a good friend and he'd felt a spark, he had to admit, though they'd spent so little time alone together. But this was different. Draco's touch was as light as a feather yet it had Harry burning and tingling all over. Goose bumps rose all over his body and he gasped. Draco held himself back, watching Harry's reaction hungrily. His hand trailed down Harry's chest, down to his stomach, then teasingly back up again, lighter and lighter. Harry arched his body and pressed into Draco's touch.

It was as if Draco had been waiting for that signal. He lay gracefully down next to Harry but didn't kiss him. Harry found himself wishing desperately that he would.

"You like that," Draco stated. His hand was trailing over Harry's cheek and neck.

"Y-yes," Harry's voice shook.

"You want me," Draco eyes burned and Harry trembled.

"I-" quavered Harry. The creature in his chest was roaring so loud he could barely speak.

"Scared, Potter?" said Draco, in a silky, challenging voice, looking into Harry's eyes and cupping Harry's cheek with his hand. His face was close and his breath was warm.

Harry remembered their duel, so many years ago and smiled. If Draco didn't dare to kiss him, it was time for Harry to take matters into his own hands. "You WISH," he said. Harry pulled Draco down and kissed him passionately on the mouth.

oOoOoOo

_**Author's Notes:** I LOVE reviews. Please, please review! _

_I've thought of a slogan for Firewhiskey. Firewhiskey - helping the oblivious get laid... I had so much fun writing Oblivious Harry but it only took an hour alone with Draco and Oblivious Harry has disappeared forever. (Sob!) Next chapter will be little more than shagging. (Yay!) I'm so glad I've finally gotten to the shagging - it only took about 44,000 words. (Facepalm!) Next time I'd better write porn without plot. Draco and Harry meet and shag with no explanation in 1000 words...it would certainly be quicker to write. ;-)_

_The video Dudley played over and over was Kung Pow. See it and you will never view the words 'Chosen One', in the same light again. :-)_

_**Replies to Reviews:**_

_Bishou: Thanks! Sexual tension was what I was aiming for. I hope it was stronger in this chapter. mimifoxlove: Thanks! Poor Harry, it's his family that made him hate himself so much. Lisa: Thanks! Actually, having someone at their door like that turned out well, after a bit of manipulation from Draco. There will definitely be a Virginity Trap, if Ron's got any say in the matter! GreenEyedCatDragon: Thanks! Glad I got you so worked up about it! ;-) Culf: I find Legilimency to be absolutely terrifying and it certainly adds to the scariness of characters who have it, such as Snape. Have you noticed that whenever Harry thinks horrible things about Snape, in the books during Potions class, Snape does bad things to Harry as if he's read his mind and is taking revenge? In GoF, Harry stares at Snape and pictures performing the Cruciatus curse on him, and the next thing he knows, Snape is announcing he'll be testing poison on Harry. I wonder how Snape would have handled it if he'd seen Harry having a sexual fantasy about him? ;-) The Jason Isaacs interview is at the-leaky-cauldron dot org and it's called "Jason Isaacs Talks Order of the Phoenix on ITV..." On the same site, I also recommend the slash-friendly and hysterically funny "Michael Gambon "Top Gear" Interview..." where the Dumbledore actor jokes that he used to be gay but it made his eyes water... ;-) Black Padfoot: Thanks! Just writing the next chapter now. emeraud.silver: Heh, you don't like my Harry but you still want to read another chapter? I'm confused now. (Harry will improve after he's had a good, hard-!) miME-chan: THanks! Oh, you've GOT TO read the books. They're amazing. ;-) Spikeddraco666: Thanks! Writing more now. Kit turned Mighty: Thank you for your lovely review! Harry/Draco-ness will only increase from now on. Judi: Thank you very much! More on the way. ;-) T.Felton: Thank you! I'd better write quicker! MNP: Thanks! Sexy is good. ;-) Queen Vampiress: Thanks! Draco was definitely laying it on thick. Faking injury is one of his skills! Much more playing around in bed to follow. Ron is going to get a surprise... Potter's Wifey: Thanks! I hope all your questions were answered in this chapter. NinjaoftheDarkness: Thanks! More fluffiness to follow... The Earth Mystic: Wow! That's quite an image of Fenrir! Heh, Draco doesn't have to worry about waking Ron now. They can be as noisy as they like. ;-) niccoyne12: Thanks! I think your question is answered as well. Yellowwolf: Thanks! Would you waste time if you were Draco? ;-) Shame Ness2: I'll be good and update. Thanks for your review. ProperT: Heh, good, hard...I-bet-you-can-guess! ;-) Good guess about who's at the door. MayuBlack: Poor oblivious Harry! Doesn't even know about tops and bottoms. Draco will have to educate him! Can you guess what Draco saw in Hermione's head that made him so happy? wizli: Good call about Dobby. I've always wondered what Draco did to Dobby that made him call Draco a bad, Dark wizard. Dobby always gets cut off in the books when he tries to say why. I adore Dobby and he'll be showing up later. You're the only one who noticed Draco wrote to someone. Lots of good guesses in your review. ;-) Crowley Black: Poor Harry got a MAJOR clue! A: Where does it say it's illegal to reply to reviewers? There's nothing in the guidelines. fragonknight01: Greyback's foul, I agree. SuperSquash: Didn't leave it there this time! ;-) HecateDeMort: Thanks again. _


	17. First Times: Shagging!

**Slash Warning: From now on, this fanfic will contain graphic descriptions of men making love with other men. Slash, in other words. If slash bothers you, or if you are too young to be legally reading that sort of thing, please stop reading now.**

_**Author's Note: **Lots of fluff, shagging and minimal plot coming up. The suggested (and suggestive) soundtrack is The Only Time by Nine Inch Nails._

_Many thanks to darkend-angelz-wingz for the beta job. :-)_

oOoOoOo

**The Bodyguard**

**Chapter 17: First Times: Shagging!**

Firewhiskey ran through Harry's veins but that wasn't the reason he was dizzy. He had never wanted anyone in his life as much as he wanted Draco. Running his hands through that soft, silky hair and kissing those hot, sweet, slippery lips wasn't enough. With an urgency he'd never felt before, Harry rolled Draco on top of him, glorying in his weight and heat, and the way their bodies clung and molded to each other. As Harry turned his head, to trail kisses along Draco's jaw line, he heard the Slytherin give a self-satisfied chuckle that was more like a moan.

"You're so desperate for me, Harry. I love it!"

Frowning, Harry pulled his lips away from Draco's face and laid his head back on the pillow, gazing up at Draco's pink cheeks and his desire-darkened eyes. "You never stop do you?"

Draco chuckled again. "What do you mean?" he whispered huskily, bending his head to Harry's throat and pressing hot, wet sucking kisses down the side of his neck.

"Everything's ... a competition ... with you. You always have to ... AH! ... be my rival..." Harry gasped, tipping up his chin and closing his eyes. He could feel the heat from every kiss radiating straight to his groin. Draco chuckled and it occurred to Harry that this snog was nothing more than a variation of one of their usual battles of wits and bodies - battles that they had previously fought on the Quidditch pitch or in the Hogwarts corridors; never before in bed. But none of their previous battles had ever felt so good...

"Everything's a competition with YOU, Harry. Whatever I do, you always have to retaliate. I just love the way you can't ignore me! Besides, I like a competition that I can win, and this one is well stacked in my favour!" said Draco, between kisses.

Harry opened his eyes. There was a wild expression of triumph on Draco's face. "What do you mean?" asked Harry slowly. Draco did not reply at first; he ran his tongue up the side of Harry's throat and Harry couldn't help himself. He moaned.

Draco lifted his head. "The Slytherin Stud versus the Gryffindor Virgin," he said, with the faintest trace of a sneer. His eyes were so dilated they looked black and a wild, sensual grin spread over his face. "I'm going to shag you senseless, Harry! You're going to come first, screaming my name!" To Harry's mingled horror and pleasure, Draco boldly ran a hand down Harry's naked chest, over a nipple, and down onto his straining groin, which was only covered by a thin pair of pyjamas. Draco cupped the area and squeezed hard.

Stars exploded behind Harry's eyes and he cried out. His hips bucked under Draco's hand. "Slow down!" he yelped, pulling away as if burned. But the hand followed him and began to rub along his hard length through his pyjamas. No one had ever touched Harry there before. He couldn't control the whimpers coming out of his mouth.

"What's the matter?" sniggered Draco. His hand rubbed mercilessly over Harry's groin and the expression on his face was diabolical. "Am I going too fast for you? Did Precious Potter want to wait until he was married before he let someone touch his cock?"

With a roar of fury, Harry pushed Draco's hand away and flipped him forcibly onto his back. Then he grabbed his rival's face with both hands, kissing him fiercely, and pressing his tongue forcibly into his mouth. He felt Draco's mouth open wide and tasted sweetness as his smooth, slick tongue duelled back.

The world contracted for Harry, until Draco was the only thing in it. He could feel Draco's hands all over him, running through his hair, and sinking into the slick, sweaty skin of his back. Their pelvises ground together and Harry gasped as Draco's hands slid under his pyjamas and touched his bare skin of his bottom.

Abruptly, Draco pushed Harry onto his back and straddled his hips, still grinding their pelvises together. He leaned over Harry and put both of his hands on his chest. There was a hungry look on Draco's face that Harry had never seen on another face before - it was terrifying and exhilarating at the same time. The balls of Draco's thumbs teased and caressed Harry's nipples and Harry arched his body. Then Draco lowered his head, kissing Harry's shoulders, running his hands down the sides of his body, and trailing kisses and firm licks over one of Harry's nipples, and then the other. Harry had ceased to care about the noise he was making. He groaned, and writhed under Draco's touch.

Then Harry cried out Draco's name...

"That's right, Harry, let me hear you!" Draco smirked triumphantly and looked up from Harry's nipple. Harry tried to glare at him but, without breaking eye contact, Draco dipped his head and sucked hard on Harry's nipple, swirling his tongue over the pebbled surface.

"Draco!" Harry cried out, unable to stop himself. His fingers tangled in his lover's white-blond hair.

Draco followed up with a broad, wet lick over Harry's nipple. "Good Gryffindor. Let it out!" he smirked.

It was too much for Gryffindor pride to handle. "You just wait!" moaned Harry. He reached over and started tearing open the pyjama jacket that Draco was wearing, not caring when one button, then another, broke off and flew somewhere out of sight in the darkened room.

"Harry, slow down. You're ruining your only pair of pyjamas," warned Draco, in a reasonable tone. Far too reasonable for Harry, who wanted Draco to feel as crazy as he did. He yanked the pyjamas from Draco's shoulders and Draco struggled - for some reason he was reluctant to disrobe, even though Harry had seen him topless earlier that day. Harry won out in the end. He flung the rather ripped piece of fabric away, and took a moment to victoriously feast his eyes on Draco's beautiful body.

But then he caught sight of something that made him stop dead. The Dark Mark - a livid red tattoo in the shape of a human skull with a snake slithering through its bony jaws - was visible on Draco's left forearm. A chill went through Harry.

Draco flinched with humiliation. "It's coming back again. I didn't want you to see it," he said softly, with downcast eyes.

"It comes and it goes?" asked Harry, staring in horrified fascination.

"Yes. Mostly it's invisible. When the Dark Lord is planning something, it stings and goes red. When we are meant to Disapparate to his side, it burns black." He trembled as Harry put out a hand and ran his fingers over the hideous brand.

"All I can feel is skin."

"It goes all the way to the bone," said Draco shakily. "Mother told me there was a Death Eater once, called Black, who tried to cut his Mark out and he kept slicing away but..."

Harry winced. "I don't want to hear it." Draco fell silent - his cheeky bravado of a few minutes ago had gone, and Harry found that he missed it. Very gently, with a level of forgiveness that astonished him, Harry said, "I know that you wanted to get the Mark, but that was long ago and so many things have happened since then. You've changed-"

"I DIDN'T want it," interrupted Draco. He looked up and his face was feverish. "It was the Dark Lord's idea to make me a Death Eater. Not mine. He wanted a replacement for Father and he sent Death Eaters to my house to fetch me. I didn't want to go with them, Harry, I didn't want the Mark, but if I hadn't gone, they'd have killed Mother and I."

This did not fit in at all with what Harry thought he had seen and he frowned. "I don't believe you didn't want it. You looked pretty happy about being a Death Eater on the Hogwart's Express. You were actually BOASTING about serving Voldemort and about the task he'd set you."

Draco flinched at the name and his whole face flushed pink. "I knew you were listening, Harry. I wanted ... I wanted to show off..." he admitted, his voice faltering when he saw Harry's look of disgusted amusement. But Draco's face was deadly serious. "There's another reason, Harry. On the night the Dark Lord Marked me, he ... did something to my mind. He performed magic on me that made me WANT the Mark. When he was finished with me, I wanted it so badly that I ... begged to serve him."

Harry saw that Draco's eyes were unprotected and frightened but he still felt a cold, disgusted rage rising up. "You begged Voldemort?" he whispered, glaring at Draco in the way a serpent would look at a mouse.

Draco swallowed convulsively. "I know. It's terrible and I regret it with all my heart. But you've got no idea of the powers that the Dark Lord possesses. He placed a vision in my mind - something he promised would come true if I served him faithfully. I b-believed him, Harry. I wanted it to come true so much that I begged..." Draco looked ashamed of himself. "It was all lies. I realised that, after a few weeks and then I felt so sick and betrayed and ashamed of myself but it was too late. I had nowhere to turn. You've got no idea what it's like when the Dark Lord manipulates your mind-"

As it happened, Harry knew EXACTLY what it was like. "I wouldn't be so sure of that, Draco," he interrupted softly. He recalled the false vision of Sirius being tortured, which Voldemort used to lure Harry to the Ministry of Magic and which had resulted in Sirius's death. Harry looked away as his eyes stung with tears. How could he blame Draco, whose folly had lead to the death of his beloved mother, when Harry's own belief in Voldemort's false visions had killed his beloved godfather? Something else tickled in the back of Harry's mind and he thought about the memories he'd seen and made connections. False visions, altered memories, dense fog in a room...

With a flash of intuition, Harry blinked back his tears and said, in a much stronger voice, "I've caught a glimpse of the vision Voldemort put in your head, haven't I? That four-poster bed with the hangings drawn?" He knew he'd guessed correctly when Draco's mouth dropped open and his eyes widened. He'd never seen Draco look so openly impressed as he did now.

"How did you know?"

"Memories that have been tampered with look foggy and that bedroom was full of mist."

"Mist?" said Draco incredulously. "There wasn't any mist."

"There was," said Harry absently. He was thinking about Slughorn's altered memory of the young Voldemort asking about Horcruxes and the way the parts Slughorn had altered looked foggy. Perhaps, thought Harry, an altered memory looked perfectly normal to the one who owned it? That would explain why Slughorn had been willing to give such an obvious travesty of a memory to Dumbledore...

Harry's thoughts were interrupted by Draco. "You've seen a changed memory before?"

"Yes," said Harry, but he didn't elaborate.

"I suppose you want to see what the Dark Lord put in my head now," said Draco miserably. He wasn't meeting Harry's eyes.

Snapping out of his reverie, Harry looked up at his lover. There was a sad, hopeless expression on Draco's face. Harry could see the Dark Mark, but it no longer made him angry. Suddenly, Harry wanted his mischievous, flirty rival back.

"It doesn't matter, Draco. I don't want to see how he tricked you. I've seen enough of that bastard's lies to last me a lifetime." Harry leaned over and gave Draco a gentle kiss. Draco looked surprised, then deeply thankful and kissed Harry back tenderly.

"Now where was I? I think I was about to throw you down on the bed and give your chest a good seeing to," teased Harry.

"Throw me down on the bed?" said Draco, with the trace of a sneer. Harry was glad to see he looked happier already. "You couldn't if you tried ... OH!" He broke off as Harry pushed him to the bed by his shoulders. "That's not fair, Potter!" he laughed, but his voice became a rapturous moan as Harry sank his mouth into the place where Draco's shoulders met his neck. This gave Harry all the confidence he needed to proceed. He had never touched another's person's naked chest before, but with Gryffindor bravado, he copied what Draco had done to him, and watched with delight, as Draco came undone. Draco's breaths were coming in sobbing gasps by the time Harry had kissed him from the top to the bottom of his Sectumsempra scar. Harry dipped his tongue experimentally into Draco's belly button and heard him wail, "Harry!"

Harry looked up. Draco's whole face was flushed pink, his hair clung darkly to his forehead and his expression was sweetly frantic. Harry grinned wickedly. "Good Slytherin. Say my name again!"

An angry look, that might have been Slytherin pride, came over Draco's face. "Damn you, Potter! For that, you can be the first one to..." Draco's hands darted out and pulled. "Lose your clothes!"

Harry yelped in alarm and tried to stop Draco, but it was too late. His pyjamas were already around his knees, and his hard cock bounced up against his stomach. Embarrassed, Harry covered himself with both hands and rolled back on the bed, but that only allowed Draco to pull his pyjamas off completely and throw them across the darkened room. Harry lay on the bed, swearing at Draco, curled up and blushing furiously.

"You're so shy, Harry. Such a modest boy," drawled Draco. He met Harry's eyes hungrily, and made sure he was watching before he pulled his own silky black boxer shorts down, without the slightest bit of self-consciousness, and tossed them after Harry's pyjamas.

Harry stared. He couldn't take his eyes off Draco's naked body.

Slowly, sensuously, Draco slid over to Harry. He rested a hand on Harry's knees and pushed his legs down, then he threw a leg over, and lay down on top of him, kissing him passionately on the mouth, rubbing their cocks smoothly together.

The feeling of all that sliding, naked flesh against him nearly drove Harry over the edge and it was all he could do to stop himself coming right there and then in Draco's arms. He thought hard about trolls and Umbridge (eurgh!) to settle himself. Draco lifted his head; his lips glistened from the kisses Harry had been showering on him. "Fuck me now, Harry!" he ordered.

Harry hesitated. He had only the sketchiest notions of how men made love to other men, but what he did know sounded painful. "You want to ... go inside of me?" he said tentatively, hoping desperately that Draco would say no.

He could see that Draco knew he was innocent as well. "Don't look so terrified," Draco grumbled. "I can bottom if you'd prefer. I know I'D prefer it, this time."

"Bottom?" queried Harry.

"It means you put your cock inside ME, Harry," Draco explained with a smirk. He looked thoughtfully at Harry and a strange, almost vulnerable expression came over his face. "I haven't bottomed before, so this will be a first time for both of us," he admitted.

Harry spluttered. "You were LYING about shagging those boys! I KNEW it!" he yelled.

"Not at all," said Draco angrily. "I've only ever topped before. I put my cock in them, Harry, not the other way around."

Harry recalled the conversation he'd had with Draco about his pyjamas, and Draco's inexplicable (at the time) laughter. "I see why you laughed at me when I offered you the tops or bottoms of my pyjamas," he said ruefully.

"Now you get it!" smirked Draco. Then his face became sober. "Lie down, Harry."

"Why...?"

"If I'm bottoming, I'm controlling it," said Draco firmly. He took a deep breath and his face became hesitant. "You could really hurt me, Harry. I'm putting a great deal of trust in you."

Harry looked at Draco and felt strangely protective. Reaching out, Harry stroked his hands soothingly down the sides of Draco's body, feeling the corrugations of his ribs. He was far too thin and Harry felt a pang in his chest. "You can trust me, Draco. I won't hurt you." Some little devil inside Harry compelled him to add, "But you're still going to come first screaming my name."

"No, Harry. You're going to come first screaming MY name," corrected Draco, who was smiling. He pointed his wand at his groin and aimed a silent, silvery spell at himself. Then he shuddered all over.

"What was that?" asked Harry, his voice laced with concern.

"A preparation spell that that Durmstrang boy taught me," said Draco through gritted teeth. "Oh Merlin! I've never done that before. That feels weird." He jiggled his hips.

"What sort of preparation?"

"You are so innocent, Harry!" Draco sighed when Harry frowned and explained: "The spell stretches me out and lubricates me." His eyes were wide and his face flushed and damp. "Are you ready, Harry?"

Harry couldn't speak. He nodded instead.

Draco straddled Harry. "Don't move until I tell you it's safe, Harry," he ordered. He looked anxious and bit his lip. Then he reached down and grabbed Harry's cock, directed it upwards and sat slowly down on it. Harry moaned as Draco touched him, then groaned loudly as he felt the head of his cock breach Draco's tight entrance. Draco gave a matching groan and screwed up his eyes. Harry forced himself not to move as Draco pushed himself down, and Harry felt his cock slide up into Draco's hot, tight body.

Making fists of his hands in the blanket, Harry watched in utter desire. Draco's lips were parted, his head thrown back and he had never looked so vulnerable or utterly delectable. His toned, ivory-pale body glistened with sweat. As he took Harry inside completely, he cried out.

"Are ... you all right?" Harry gasped. Every muscle in his body was screaming for permission to thrust into that welcoming tightness but he forced himself to remain still.

Draco bent his head back down and opened his eyes. He was trembling so hard Harry could feel it through his cock. "You're long, Harry. And WIDE," he choked out and looked pained.

"Do you want to stop?" Stopping was the last thing Harry wanted to do, but he knew if Draco asked him, he would stop immediately. He knew if Draco asked him ANYTHING right now, he'd do it.

"No, give me ... a moment," said Draco. He was panting uncontrollably. Finally he moved his hips and Harry felt his cock slide out a little, then back in, even deeper. "Now!"

"Draco!" Harry cried out. Draco gave him a tiny smile and started to move in earnest, lifting and lowering himself on Harry's cock. Harry could see as well as feel himself plunging in and out of Draco and the sight drove him mad. He pumped his hips into Draco, feeling Draco's hands stroking over his chest.

"Harry!" Draco shouted, with his head thrown back. His untouched, bobbing cock was weeping precum. Every part of his body was as tight and taut as a drum, each muscle outlined. Harry could feel his own orgasm building and then it struck. Harry was never quite sure who came first. He saw glistening white jets pump out of Draco's cock, once, twice, three times, and felt him clench tightly, just at the moment he closed his eyes and poured himself inside Draco. He was only vaguely aware of shouting out Draco's name, just as Draco was shouting his.

When Harry got his breath back, he opened his eyes. Draco's full weight was lying top of him and his face was buried in Harry's neck. He stroked Draco's back and felt him stir and roll off him and snuggle up to his side.

"I think that was a tie," murmured Harry.

Draco raised his head and gave Harry a wobbly grin. "If it's a tie, why do I feel like I've won?"

Harry laughed and kissed him. They were both lying in a sticky wet patch. Draco reached for his wand. "Scourgify!" he said, pointing his wand at the wet patch and it disappeared. "Come on, Harry. Bathroom. Let's go and clean ourselves up."

A few minutes later - feeling much fresher - Harry pulled back the blankets and climbed into bed. Draco followed him and wrapped his arms around him as if the few minutes they had spent in the bathroom had been a painful separation. Harry laughed and gave Draco a kiss, then feasted his eyes on him. The Slytherin had never looked more tousled or cute, and his grey eyes were soft. "You are beautiful," said Harry softly.

Draco's hand stroked Harry's hair. "So are you," he said. He smiled. "I like seeing you like this. I've never seen you look more relaxed. Well, not since the Wizengamot."

"I wasn't relaxed at the Wizengamot!"

"You looked it," said Draco. "You had a sort of twinkling look in your eye. A bit like Professor Dumbledore," he added guiltily.

"I was thinking of him during the trial. He stood up for me against the Wizengamot once, and I wanted to be just like him, for you," said Harry. He looked at the ceiling, thought of Dumbledore and expected to feel sad, but for the first time since Dumbledore's murder, the thought of him only brought happiness, not sadness. Harry gave a sigh and wriggled even closer to Draco, "I can't believe how mellow I am right now. You could practice Legilimency on me and I'd just smile-"

Draco's lips tweaked up at the corners. "Is that a challenge? All right. Grab your wand, Harry."

It hadn't been a challenge, but Harry picked up his wand from the bedside table anyway. However, his mind wasn't empty. He was thinking of Dumbledore - his twinkling eyes, his wisdom and calming demeanour. Occlumens, he thought. A moment later, he felt Draco trying to break into his mind. But this time - for the first time ever - Harry's mental defences held. Outside, Harry could feel Draco's ferocious mental attack but inside Harry was as peaceful as the stars he could see through the round window. The thought of Dumbledore was in his head, and a certain silvery-blond Slytherin, who looked good enough to eat, lay in his arms. Gone was the rage that usually rose up and ruined Harry's Occlumency.

"Harry...?" said Draco uncertainly. Then, as the seconds ticked on, his grey eyes widened. "You're doing it, Harry! You're actually doing it! You're keeping me out!"

"I know!" beamed Harry. Draco's attack grew weaker as the seconds ticked on, but Harry could feel his defences strengthening, as his confidence that his mind was impregnable grew. He could feel the smile spreading over his face. "I can do Occlumency! I can do it, Draco!" he shouted. He felt the Legilimency attack cease and suddenly they were both laughing with joy, embracing and kissing.

"Of course, it was my superior teaching skills that made all the difference!" boasted Draco, the moment his lips left Harry's.

A day before, this attempt to take all the credit would have made Harry furious, but now he only found it funny. More than that - he found it instructive. In his unusually calm and relaxed state, it occurred to Harry that Draco's constant boasting hid a mass of insecurity. Realising this, Harry was more than willing to play along, if it made Draco happy.

"Of course they did. Thank you, Draco," he said tenderly. Draco's eyes glowed with adoration and something seemed to explode in Harry's chest and make words fly out of his mouth before his brain and tongue could catch up.

"Wangooutwime?"

"Excuse me?" asked Draco, in confusion.

Harry took a deep, nervous breath and felt his cheeks burn. "Do you want to go out with me?" he managed, more clearly this time.

Draco gaped at him and blushed as well. "You're asking me out?" he said slowly.

Harry felt alarmed. It occurred to him that Draco was going to refuse. "Uh, y-yes," he stuttered.

"You want me to be your boyfriend?" persisted Draco.

Harry nodded, his face now brick red.

Draco looked at Harry in amazement. "You are so gorgeous," he said, as if he could hardly believe his eyes or his ears. "Yes, I would be honoured to be your boyfriend, Harry James Potter." He leaned forward and kissed Harry full on the mouth.

They snogged gently for some time, but the pace slowed down and Harry saw Draco's eyelids sliding lower and lower. Harry kissed him on the forehead. "I've worn you out," he teased gently.

"Never, Harry," said Draco, with a sleepy attempt at cheekiness. He sighed. "It's just I've had a busy day." A smile crept over his face. "I can't say I enjoyed the morning very much, but my day's been getting better and better since then..." He hugged Harry, reluctantly let go and slid to his side of the bed. "'Night, Harry! And thanks for saving my life..." he said, trailing his fingers one more time through Harry's hair.

"Thanks for saving mine. Good night, Draco," said Harry, reaching up and giving Draco's hand a squeeze. Draco smiled sleepily and closed his eyes, leaving his hand in Harry's. Harry reached out with his free hand and dropped his glasses and wand on the bedside table. But as he settled himself at Draco's side, and tried to sleep, Harry was aware there was something missing, some unknown absence that was keeping him awake. He listened but he could only make out Draco's soft, slowing breathing and the faint sound of the wind through the eaves. It's so quiet, thought Harry. That's what the problem is. I'm used to having Ron snoring nearby. Sure Ron snores loud enough to wake the dead, but I've had years and years to get used to the noise. How can I sleep when it's so quiet?

But suddenly the attic bedroom ceased to be quiet. Harry turned his head. Draco looked peaceful and almost angelic in the firelight, but his mouth hung open and he gave another tremendous snore. Harry bit his lip to stop himself laughing out loud. It was such a simple, unexpectedly human thing for Draco to be doing. Who would have thought such a sleek, well-bred blond could make a noise like a tractor starting up when he slept?

Even as he listened and tried not to laugh, Harry could feel Draco's snores lulling him to sleep.

oOoOoOo

Harry was lost. He was standing in a corridor lit with torches, just like the lowest floor of the Ministry of Magic, but the walls shone rough, and wet, like a sewer. His wand was in his hand, and he could see Draco struggling in the arms of Barnes.

"There's been a mistake, Potter. You weren't meant to keep the Death Eater. The Ministry's taking him back and he's going to die in Azkaban," snarled Barnes. Harry could see the scarring on his head, where the werewolf Fenrir Greyback had chewed off his ears.

"You're not taking him!" roared Harry. The repercussions of shooting the Chief Auror were far from Harry's mind. He fired curse after curse at Barnes, who shuddered, grew taller and paler, and suddenly Draco was struggling in the long, spidery hands of Voldemort, whose high-pitched voice tore at Harry's ears.

"Were you foolish enough to think I'd let him go, Harry? He wears my Dark Mark in his flesh! He'll always be mine!"

Harry staggered. Voldemort had Cursed him.

"No!" Draco cried out in horror. He struck backwards with both of his elbows, hit Voldemort's stomach and made him double over, and release him. Draco ran forward and flung his arms around Harry.

Feeling himself grow instantly hard at Draco's touch, Harry hugged him back joyfully, but when he looked up, a split second later, Voldemort had vanished. Harry pushed Draco to one side and wheeled around, wand at the ready, trying to catch sight of Voldemort, but the corridor was empty. Yet Voldemort was close by; Harry could sense his oppressive presence all around, filling the corridor like mist. Harry's skin crawled.

A strange feeling went through Harry's scar and he heard a high-pitched, cold, cruel laugh. He wheeled around again, looking everywhere and he could see Draco doing the same, but he could not see Voldemort.

"Where are you?" Harry shouted.

"Don't you know, Harry? Don't you know where I am? I'm close, Harry. So close!" Voldemort's laugh echoed in the corridor and Harry felt the strange sensation along his scar again. It wasn't like the normal stab of pain he got from his scar. This sensation was warm, gentle and almost pleasant...

"Show yourself, Voldemort!" Harry cried out. The corridor was growing dark.

"You're dreaming, Harry," came Draco's voice, apparently from a great distance.

Harry opened his eyes. He was lying on his back and there was a warm, soft body against him. Everything was blurry but Harry thought he could see a pale face hovering above his own. He felt the warm sensation in his scar again and quickly reached out an arm to pick up his glasses and jam them on his face. Now he could see that Draco was lying by his side, looking sleepy and concerned. Harry saw his arm move and felt a tingle in his forehead. Draco was stroking his scar.

"The Dark Lord isn't here. You were having a nightmare," said Draco softly. His shoulders were pale and bare in the grey dawn light filling the room.

It took a moment for reality to sink in. Voldemort wasn't nearby but a nude Draco definitely was. The memory of last night came back with a rush. Harry realised that he must be looking astonished, for Draco's look of concern became one of nervous amusement. "Yes, we did shag last night! And you did ask me to be your boyfriend, Harry." Draco bit his lip nervously. "Not having second thoughts already, are you?"

Harry sat up. He remembered drinking Firewhiskey. SO much Firewhiskey. Shouldn't he be feeling hung over? But he didn't feel the slightest bit ill, though he felt very thirsty. Had last night really happened? He realised Draco was silently offering him a glass of water. "I took the liberty of using a Hang Over Charm on you before you woke up," said Draco.

"Thanks," said Harry automatically, took the glass and drained it within seconds. The water seemed to flow straight into his head and clear his mind. The lingering fear from the dream faded. He became aware of Draco, looking downcast nearby and gave him a sleepy, encouraging smile. "Sorry. I'm awful in the mornings, boyfriend. I haven't even said a proper good morning to you yet..." Harry leaned forward to kiss Draco and Draco leaned forward too, but Harry suddenly stopped himself. "Uh oh, I've got morning breath. I'd better go brush my teeth."

"There's a spell for morning breath. I've already treated myself," said Draco. He pointed his wand at Harry's mouth. "Manemedicor!"

Harry smacked his lips. The fuzz had disappeared from his tongue and his mouth felt clean and fresh. He grinned and as a thank you, he placed a gentle, lingering kiss on Draco's mouth. Draco kissed him back passionately and held him tightly. Then Harry lay back down and Draco snuggled up, and resumed stroking Harry's scar.

"Like my scar, do you?"

"Not at all," said Draco with a sleepy, thoughtless honesty that made Harry frown. "I woke up an hour ago and I've been watching you sleep, Harry. This is the first chance I've ever had to really look at your scar up close. I never realised how strange it is." Harry could feel Draco touching and pulling gently on the skin of his forehead. "Most scars, they're on the skin and they move around when you touch them. But your scar stays put. It's like ... an object ... buried in your forehead ... right through the skin and bone." Harry felt Draco give a visceral shudder and run his finger down the scar again. "It's horrible. It hasn't faded in the slightest, even after all these years."

Harry wasn't comfortable about this conversation at all. "It's not a normal scar, everyone knows that," he said, a bit sharper than he'd intended. "Voldemort hit me with the Avada Kedavra curse when I was a baby, and it rebounded on him and gave me this scar. It's a remnant of the curse that failed. That's what Dumbledore said."

Draco shuddered at Voldemort's name, but then he gave Harry a look. "Dumbledore was wrong," he said firmly. There was a strange, serious expression on his face.

Harry rubbed his eyes. It was too early in the morning for this. "What do you mean?" he muttered.

Draco's grey eyes were haunted. "It can't have been Avada Kedavra, or if it was, it was twinned with another curse. Avada Kedavra doesn't scar," he said and shuddered, "Oh Merlin, I saw it, Harry. I saw the other Death Eaters using it on Muggles. I'll never forget it as long as I live. One moment all those people were alive, the next moment they were dead and there wasn't a mark on them. Mother didn't have a mark on her..." He broke off. Harry could feel him shivering and wrapped an arm around him. But Draco rallied himself, and said forcefully. "Avada Kedavra doesn't scar. That's its trademark. Some powerful curse gave you this scar, Harry, but it can't have been Avada Kedavra." He looked at the scar and Harry could see his lip curling and his eyes filling up with loathing in a familiar, horrible way. "There's something wrong with that scar. It's revolting. I hate it! I hate it!" Draco spat vehemently.

Harry sat up so abruptly he felt a surge of dizziness. "That's ENOUGH, Draco!" he said. All his misgivings were coming back. "What's gotten into you? First you're all over me, then you're telling me you hate me."

"No, Harry, I LOVE you, I just hate your scar," said Draco passionately.

"I know that you ... WHAT?"

Draco's eyes softened and he gave a nervous smirk. Harry wondered if he'd meant to say what he'd just said aloud. But the Slytherin rallied admirably. "You're deaf in the mornings too. Didn't you hear what I just said? I said - I love you, Harry."

Harry stared in wide-eyed astonishment. "You love me?"

"I do," said Draco.

Harry's jaw worked soundlessly up and down. "No you don't," he said in a shaky, childish tone.

With a frustrated roll of his eyes, Draco insisted: "Yes I DO, Harry. I've spent the last hour just lying here looking at you and deciding how I feel, and I love you. I'd die for you. I nearly DID die for you two days ago-"

"You don't love me," said Harry angrily. Then his voice became hesitant. "You can't."

"Not used to it, are you?" said Draco, and the forcefulness in his voice was brutal. "You're not used to having anyone say they love you? I saw your Muggle family in your mind, Harry. I bet they never told you they loved you."

Harry pulled away from Draco. "They hated me, and I hated them. Of course they never told me they loved me." Harry snarled, then heard himself add, "What's there to love?"

"Blimey, Harry, I want to kill those Muggles!" shouted Draco and grabbed Harry's face in both hands. "You want a LIST of reasons why I love you? Okay! First of all, you're the bravest and most resourceful person I've ever met. I love the way you're never short of a smart reply. Nothing ever shuts you up. Doesn't matter if it's Ministry Aurors, the Dark Lord, or being in chains, you're not intimidated by anything. You were the best school rival I could have hoped for. But you're even better as a friend and a lover!"

Harry could feel a hot, embarrassed blush creeping over his face. He wanted to correct Draco by pointing out that he felt very intimated now, but he couldn't get his lips to move.

Without pausing for breath, Draco went on. "Next, you've got the biggest, most forgiving, most loving heart I've ever seen. You hated me at school and I thought you'd kill me when I gave you your wand back. You had every reason! But you escaped with me and then you defended me at the Wizengamot, took me in and made me breakfast, gave me your bed, made love to me ... " He looked at Harry adoringly. "I never understood before, why you hung out with social rejects, losers, half-breeds, blood traitors and Mudbloods-" Draco must have seen Harry's expression turn thunderous, because he quickly added. "But now I understand because ex-Death Eaters are worse! Social death! You'll never be let into wizarding society again because of me."

"Luckily, I never wanted anything to do with wizarding society anyway," said Harry. He was puzzled that Draco was saying words like 'Mudblood' without clutching at his throat. What had happened to the Vow? Then Harry felt a rush of gladness that the Vow wasn't making its presence known.

Draco went on quickly. "Next, I love your eyes. You have the most beautiful eyes I've ever seen, Harry. I want say something poetic about them, like the way they look like the sun shining through leaves-"

"Oh, please don't!" laughed Harry. He leaned forward and gave Draco a kiss. He felt Draco's cock twitch against his leg, and felt his own cock give an answering twitch.

"But do you know what else I love about you?" asked Draco, sitting back with a mischievous smirk on his face.

Harry shook his head and Draco reached down and wrapped his hand around Harry's hardening cock. "This!" purred Draco triumphantly, looking deep into Harry's eyes. He squeezed and rubbed his hand up Harry's length and Harry groaned. "I wonder what it tastes like...?" purred Draco, letting his voice trail off seductively.

Harry couldn't speak. Draco pushed down the blankets until they were around their ankles, climbed on top of Harry and kissed a burning path down his chest and stomach. Then he lifted Harry's cock, licked the plump head and looked into Harry's eyes, wordlessly asking for permission to go further. Harry nodded fractionally, then arched and moaned as Draco's hot mouth engulfed his cock right down to his balls. Nothing had ever felt so good. He squeezed his eyes shut and cried out Draco's name, running his hands through Draco's silky hair.

Draco took his time. With hard sucking, and long, slow licks, he drove Harry to the edge, until Harry was moaning endearments and panting desperately. Harry felt his balls tighten and he knew he was about to come. He opened his eyes so he could watch his lover, but saw, to his horror, that he and Draco were no longer alone.

Ron Weasley was standing by the open door.

oOoOoOo

_**Author's Note:** Once again, it's review-begging time. Please, please review! Feedback makes the writing process much easier._

_**Replies to Reviews:** Forty-nine reviews since the last update. Thanks so much everyone! I'm completely blown away! ;-0_

_Bishou: Merry Xmas and Happy New Year to you too! Do I deserve a murder threat for this chapter too? ;-) Shou: Oh yes, Harry will be crossing that Virginity Line with no trouble at all now. Lily Elizabeth Snape: Thanks! Sorry it took so long to write this chapter. Nekokonneko: Yes, the sex void needed to be filled. Can you really see Harry as a submissive? Even when he doesn't know stuff, he just sort of makes it up. ;-) Lisa: Thanks! Yeah, it didn't make sense, but Draco was trying to get on Harry's nerves! ;-) Ari Maxwell00909: Thanks, I'm trying to keep them both in character, even now. It's hard! Mmm, cookie! ;-) twitchi: Ch.16: Thanks! Do you really think Harry will remain a mental virgin? ;-) Ch.15: Heh, heh! Denial of shagging. It should be a crime! ;-) Ch.14: I make the characters alive? Thank you:-) Ch.13: Thanks! I'm glad you like my writing:-) Ch.12: Draco would look great in jeans. Though, let's face it, he has literally nothing else to wear. Ch.11: Did you notice Draco's Dark Mark wasn't visible? It clearly has to come and go, otherwise the Ministry would only need to check people's arms and they'd have a sure-fire way of catching Death Eaters. Ch.10: Heh. Ch.9: Thanks for being dragged into the story! Ch.8: It WOULD be boring if Draco became obedient in the end. How scary would that be? Yes, and Umbridge and Barnes belong together. Ch.7: Harry really shouldn't have agreed to that Vow. Not that he was given a choice about it. Politics...bah! You're welcome to stab Umbridge with your kitchen knife - what I leave of her! Bwahahahaha! Ch.6: Thanks for saying Umbridge is in character. It's funny but no matter how nasty I make her, she's still in character. ;-) I see you did write more, and for that I'm grateful. Ch.5: Thanks for the Fav. Ch.4: I don't like Barnes either! Ch.2: The best post HBP you've read? Thank you very much! Though I'd love to know how many you've read. ;-) MNP: Yeah, Draco found his way into Harry's pants. Harry was easy! ;-) darkend-angelz-wingz: Thanks! I hope your Internet is up and running. musicalsilence: One of the best slash fics ever? Thank you so much. Potter's Wifey: Thank you. Lauren-The-Fairyxx: Glad my fanfic kept you reading! Thank you! Stefania Mo: LOL! If you'd found it earlier, there wouldn't have been any slashy bits! Oh no! ;-) miME-chan: Thanks! Sorry about the long wait between updates. wizli: Thank you for your lovely review! Yes, I think wanton!Harry may appear in time. ;-) I agree that Harry and Draco enjoy being challenged by each other (though they'd never admit it) and I love reading their dialog in the canon. I'll be very disappointed if they don't end up on the same side in Book 7. Yes, I think Ron will catch the meaning of Harry being able to pass through the Virginity Line after what he's just seen. ;-) death by storm: Thanks! I love your screen name. Anon: Thanks! We'll soon find out who Draco's writing to. I know what you mean about unhappy endings and Draco/Harry slash. I just read a fanfic called Dark Side of Light by Maya. It was very good but it was so unhappy that it transcended the 'Angst' category and went straight to 'Dementor' category - where fics reside that suck your soul out of your eyes, in the form of tears. Wow! I think I need therapy now! ;-) Yellowwolf: Thanks! Yes, Draco had been planning to get Harry drunk and have his wicked way with him. Harry found out from Draco's memories that he does this quite a lot! ;-) Crowley Black: I'll miss oblivious Harry too. I missed the evil laughter I made while writing him. Bwahahaha! ;-) gbheart: Thanks for reviewing. Shame Ness2: Thanks! Sorry about the wait! hunter54: Thanks! Yes, Kung Pow ruined me for 'The Chosen One'. I keep expecting Harry to stick his tongue out and have it wink an eye. GreenEyedCatDragon: I think sobering up Harry had a really good time. :-) Queen Vampiress: Double beds are much more fun! Hermione's always the voice of reason, so I made Ron the voice of...no reason whatever...anti-reason. Something like that! Black Padfoot: Thanks so much. NATWEST: They've talked their way through their problems, so they can now shag like bunnies. Firewhiskey helped. Thanks for the review! The Earth Mystic: They didn't get interrupted. We'll find out how Ron will act very early on in the next chapter. Heh, heh! Thanks for your review! ProperT: Harry is indeed a big, shaggy thing now. ;-) HecateDeMort: Thank you! Kit turned Mighty: Thanks for the lovely review! You're welcome about the Snogging Legilimency. DNAngelhun: Thanks! A little plot did sneak into the porn in this chapter. Not too much, though! ;-) emeraud.silver: Draco was naughty, and I can't see that stopping soon! T.Felton: Glad you liked, 'You wish!' Must sneak more Rowling dialog in. ;-) MayuBlack: Harry has no complaints, lol! You're sort of on the right track about what Draco saw. NinjaoftheDarkness: Thanks, sorry about the update delay. _


	18. The Virginity Trap: Blowjob!

**Slash Warning: Once again, the slash warning applies. There are two men doing shaggy things in this chapter - be warned!**

oOoOoOo

**The Bodyguard**

**Chapter 18: The Virginity Trap**

Ron Weasley stood by the attic bedroom door, wearing his patched old pyjamas and an expression that made him look like he'd just swallowed a whole boxful of Puking Pastilles.

Harry stared back in speechless horror. Unaware of Ron's presence, Draco sucked enthusiastically away at Harry's cock, until he felt Harry's hands loosen on his head, and then, with a noise like a plunger being drawn from a blocked sink, Draco lifted his head and looked up into Harry's eyes.

"What's the matter?" Draco asked. He took in Harry's frozen expression, turned his head to follow Harry's gaze and saw Ron.

"OH!" yelped Draco and in one rapid movement he reached down and pulled the blankets back up over himself and Harry. Then he draped an arm over Harry's chest and gave Ron a possessive glare. In the most priggish, upper class voice Harry had ever heard him use, Draco drawled, "Good morning, Ronald Weasley. Would you kindly please KNOCK next time, before you enter my boyfriend's room?"

Ron stared at Draco and tried to speak but he only managed to make a sound like a mouse being trodden on. Then his lips formed the word, 'Boyfriend', but no sound came out. His lower jaw worked up and down ridiculously and his eyes were as wide as saucers. At length, he found his voice. "Sorry," he said. "I came in to wake you two up so that Draco could do that virginity detector spell on my brothers. I had no idea you'd be..." He stared at Harry and Draco lying together in bed and reality seemed to hit him. Suddenly Ron turned on the spot and fled; slamming the door shut behind him.

Harry heard his running footsteps going down the stairs and stared, red-faced, at the closed door. "Poor Ron..." he breathed. "I wanted to break it to him gently. I didn't want to make the fact that we've been shagging so obvious..."

Draco gave a humourless laugh and turned his head away. "You're ashamed of me, Harry."

"No, I'm not! I'm sorry, that was an awful thing to say!" said Harry sharply and reached out a hand to cup Draco's cheek and gently turn his head around. He took in Draco's flushed cheeks and insecure grey eyes over glistening lips and he reached up to stroke a lock of soft, silvery-blond hair off his forehead. He gave Draco a tender smile. "I'm crazy about you. But so much has changed in the past couple of days. It's so strange. Two days ago, you hated me, but now-" He broke off and lost his train of thought when Draco grabbed his head and pulled him into a passionate kiss that set his body tingling.

"-I love you," Draco finished for Harry, when the kiss finally ended. Harry saw him smirk. "I don't know about strange. My taste has always been superb, so I can't be wrong about you." He caressed Harry's neck. "And if you're worried about letting everyone know we've been shagging, then you've got no choice but to stay up here all day."

"What do you mean?"

"Your neck, Harry. It's covered in love bites!" Draco grinned in triumph. "Everyone will know that you're mine!"

Harry laughed and felt his throat. He could feel the slight pain of the bruises and when his eyes strayed to Draco's neck, he gave a snort of laughter. "I think I left more on you," he insisted, refusing to be outdone. "We'll have to cure them before we go downstairs. Frendocuro is the spell."

"Good. I'll fix you later," purred Draco. His pale eyes burned, and his hand drifted down Harry's chest. "Now what were we doing before we were so rudely interrupted?"

Harry glanced at the door and the hand on his chest froze.

"Later then, when we have privacy," said Draco ruefully. "I wouldn't put it past Ron to come back in again, if he doesn't get his Virginity Trap soon." A spark of amusement glittered in his eyes. "At least YOU don't have to worry about being caught by it now, Harry..."

oOoOoOo

The sun had just risen by the time Harry and Draco had washed and dressed and were tiptoeing down the stairs. They could hear the Order stirring as they passed by their doors, but no one, apart from Ron, appeared to have left their rooms yet. Harry took Draco's hand as they crept along, and Draco beamed. With a rush of a rush of happiness and confidence Harry thought - to think I was single and a virgin when I walked up these stairs! What a difference a night can make!

As they reached the last flight of stairs, Draco let go of Harry's hand and motioned for him to stop. Harry could hear Ron's gloomy voice in the kitchen.

"What a night, Hermione! I slept alone, on a pillow that Draco had warmed his crotch on and when I woke up, I had a ... misunderstanding. I thought Harry had taken Polyjuice potion and had turned into Mad-Eye Moody."

Hermione's reply was inaudible, but Ron's was easy to hear.

"I'd just woken up, okay? I was confused. Anyway, after I'd sorted it out, and Moody had taken the jinx off me, he told me that Harry and Draco had moved up into the attic room while I slept, so I went up there and-" Ron started to splutter. "Like I told you. I-I found ... Draco M-Malfoy's face lodged in Harry's crotch-"

Hermione's laughter rang out in the kitchen but Ron raised his voice petulantly. "Stop laughing at me! I'll never get over this, Hermione. Never! I need something to take away the memory of Draco giving Harry a blowjob!"

Draco arched an eyebrow at Harry, hitched up his shoulders, and strutted boldly into the kitchen, with Harry following close behind. "Good morning ... again!" the Slytherin sniggered.

Ron was standing by the table, looking haggard and miserable. He was dressed in a robe and jeans. Hermione was standing nearby, wearing her stripy pink and green pyjamas and she was holding a towel and a clean robe as if she'd been just about to go upstairs to shower when Ron started talking to her. She beamed at Harry and Draco and gave them a sly, knowing wink. "Good morning!" she said brightly. "I hear you two are getting on REALLY well!"

Draco's cheeks went faintly pink. "Better than usual, Hermione." He moved a little closer to Harry, and Harry found himself blushing as well.

Hermione tipped her head on one side, "Draco, what are those daisy shaped bruises on your neck?"

"Oh, it's nothing. I just ... fell on something ... shaped like a daisy," invented Draco quickly and poorly. Harry nodded in support. He didn't dare look at anyone, and he made a mental note to get more Frendocuro training from Tonks.

Hermione looked doubtful. "You must have fallen on it ten times, on both sides of your neck, Draco. And so did you, Harry," she said. Her mouth twitched and Harry thought she had probably guessed how those strangely shaped bruises had gotten there. He wondered if Hermione would tease them. But Hermione saw the haunted look Ron was giving the boys and frowned. "Oh, get over it, Ron," she said bossily. "Stop acting like you're surprised they're together."

"I AM surprised," said Ron. "It's one thing to suspect something about your best mate, Hermione. It's another thing to walk in and see him getting a blowjob off another boy!"

"You shouldn't have walked in like that," said Draco, frowning.

Harry couldn't believe what Ron had just said. "Wait a second! Ron, you ... suspected ... you thought that I ... liked boys?"

Ron shrugged. "I did get that impression, mate. Girls always seemed to be more interested in you than you were in them."

The corners of Draco's lips twitched.

"What gave you that ... why didn't you say anything?" spluttered Harry.

Ron looked startled. "Why would I? I figured you had enough to deal with already. Besides, I didn't want to disappoint Ginny. She'd liked you for years, and I wanted to give you two a chance."

Draco grimaced at the mention of Ginny. With an obvious effort to change the subject, he said: "So where do you want the Virginity Trap, Ron?"

Ron brightened. "TRAP, did you say?"

Hermione swelled up with indignation and folded her arms.

"Yes, Trap. If it works, it will capture your brothers instead of just blocking them," said Draco, carefully avoiding Hermione's furious gaze.

Ron's eyes widened. "Cool! So my brothers won't be able to retaliate if they get caught? That's brilliant!"

"It's terrible!" fumed Hermione.

Harry felt obliged to stick up for Ron and Draco's plan. "It's just a bit of fun Hermione. No one will get hurt." He was taken aback when Hermione stamped her foot.

"Fun? Fine! You want to egg on Draco to use a Death Eater spell in the middle of the Order Headquarters? You boys go right ahead. But I don't want anything to do with it," she said indignantly, with a toss of her bushy mane. She stormed past Harry and Draco and disappeared up the stairs.

Draco watched her go, with a worried expression, but Harry gave him a slap on the shoulder. "Don't worry about Hermione. She's never been one for pranks. She'll be in a better mood once she's had her shower, I promise."

"Go on, make the Virginity Trap, Draco!" ordered Ron excitedly. "Please! Just there on the stairwell. Better do it fast! My brothers get up really early, because of their shop."

Draco still seemed a bit reluctant, but he nodded at Ron and ran his wand over the open air, where the stairwell met the kitchen. While Harry and Ron watching in fascination, he muttered spell words like poetry and he stretched up, so that his wand touched the ceiling, and then he slowly lowered the tip of his wand to the floor, muttering all the while. Harry couldn't see anything different about the stairwell, but his cheeks tingled from the magic being woven. Ron sat down back-to-front in a kitchen chair and leaned his chin on the back of the chair, watching avidly. Harry sat down on the chair next to him. After a few moments, Draco lowered his wand, and fell silent. "It's done," he said, and wiped his forehead with his sleeve.

Ron got up. "Thanks, Draco. So if I walk through, what will happen?"

"Nothing," said Draco. "You're not a virgin."

"I'll test it," said Ron. He walked, very slowly and cautiously, through the Virginity Trap and up a few stairs. Just as Draco had predicted, nothing happened.

Draco smirked and stepped through the Trap himself. "So far, so good," he said.

Then Ron beckoned Harry. "Your turn," he said.

Feeling his cheeks burn, but also feeling very pleased that he had something to show, Harry got up and hurried through the Trap to Ron's side. Ron laughed. "Good on you, Harry. So who was it then? Cho?" He looked a little thoughtful. "Ginny?" Harry shook his head fractionally and glanced at his boyfriend, who grinned from ear to ear and draped a possessive arm around him.

Ron went white, then red. "I see..." he said faintly.

"It's lucky you didn't come wandering into our room a few hours earlier," said Draco.

Ron looked shaken "That's far too much information ... I think I need to sit down now," he said and staggered back to his chair.

Draco and Harry followed him and sat down as well. "Hermione's right. You need to get over this, Ron," said Harry, with a flash of annoyance.

"I will, mate. I will. Just give me time," gabbled Ron. He took a deep breath. "So, the Trap's ready. Now all we need to do is wait for Fred and George."

All three of them turned their heads at once, as the sound of footsteps came from the stairwell. But the person who turned the corner was not Fred or George.

It was Hermione. She was dressed in the robe and carrying her damp towel and pyjamas. From the top of the stairs, she spotted their intense, watchful expressions and sighed in resignation. "It's up, isn't it?" she asked.

"Sure is," said Draco, leaning back in his chair. Hermione looked hesitant, and Draco hastened to add: "It's harmless. It only captures virgins. You'll be able to walk through without any trouble."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Yes, it's not like my lack of virginity is any secret, is it? Thanks to Ron," she said testily. She imitated Ron's voice. "You all know I've managed to get shagging!" Harry and Draco snickered and looked at Ron, and Ron, at least, had the grace to look embarrassed. A wicked glint came into Hermione's eyes, and she walked down a few more steps, until she stood right in front of the Trap, and then she started to pant and moan theatrically. Ron's face went crimson, Harry laughed and Draco jammed his hand in front of his mouth in an effort to stop sniggering.

Squeezing her eyes shut orgasmically, Hermione ran her free hand through her hair. "Oh, Ron! Yes, Ron, yes!" she moaned. Then she opened her eyes and beamed at her boyfriend's embarrassed expression, and walked straight through the Trap and into the kitchen. Harry and Draco gave her a round of applause.

"You asked for that, Ron," Hermione said, sitting down next to Harry and a still sniggering Draco. "So whose idea was it to put the Virginity Trap on a public thoroughfare?" she asked.

Ron looked guilty and Hermione rolled her eyes in frustration.

"You should take it down at once and put it up on the twin's bedroom door," she scolded. "If you leave the Virginity Trap here you're going to ... oh no! Did you hear that? Someone's coming!"

Harry could hear thudding footsteps coming down the stairs.

"It's Moody!" gasped Draco in alarm, and he got to his feet and took out his wand to remove the Virginity Trap, just as a tall, limping figure came into view. Harry saw Moody stiffen as his madly spinning magical eye spotted the invisible barrier and Draco, who was standing at the foot of the stairs with his wand raised. Moody snatched out his own wand and his scarred face knitted into a frown.

There wasn't a moment to lose. Harry leaped up and stood in front of Draco so that Moody couldn't shoot him down. "It's all right, Moody. The barrier is completely harmless!" he shouted.

"I'll be the judge of that, Harry," Moody growled, looking from Harry to Draco and back again. "Recognising and destroying Dark Magic was my job for forty years!" He limped closer to the Virginity Trap with his wand raised.

"It's not Dark-" began Draco nervously but he shut up when Moody flicked his wand in midair, as if testing the spell.

"YOU made this," said Moody softly, and both of his eyes rolled in the direction of Draco. Draco swallowed hard. "This is a Death Eater barrier."

"You're good! How can you tell?" asked Draco, looking flustered. Harry drew protectively closer to him.

Moody's wand slid over the invisible barrier. "Of course I'm good. I'm the best Auror the Ministry ever had," he boasted. He looked at Draco. "If you must know, I can tell a Death Eater made it, because the spell covers the entire door. Most wizards only use a line." His wand flicked and Moody's scarred face twisted into an expression of curiosity. "But this isn't a normal Death Eater barrier. I've never seen anything like it. It traps its victims, it doesn't just keep them out, and it doesn't detect Dark Marks. It detects..." Moody's real eye widened in astonishment, and he doubled over with coarse laughter.

Draco tensed.

"You little pervert!" Moody bellowed happily at the blond ex-Death Eater. "Why do you want to know if I'm a virgin?"

Pure horror crept over Draco's face. "I don't!" he said quickly.

Hermione looked smugly amused, as if she were itching to say, 'I told you so', but she said nothing aloud.

"It's my responsibility, Moody," said Ron. "I made Draco put the spell there because I wanted try it out on my brothers."

"I don't know if your brothers are virgins, Ron, but I do know that they're not the only people using these stairs. Didn't that occur to you?" said Moody, still shaking with laughter. "Quite a few of the Order are going to be walking through this barrier soon and we're all going to know their deepest secret." But before Ron could reply, a sly grin spread over Moody's scarred face. "Though it's not like I'VE got anything to hide!" He raised both arms in triumph and sauntered, limping, through the Trap, which did not stop him. "Go me! I lost my virginity decades ago and I've been putting it about ever since!" Moody bellowed proudly.

Ron moaned and covered his face with his hands. "That is TOO much information!" Hermione, Harry and Draco laughed, and Harry pulled his wide-eyed boyfriend back to the kitchen table and they both sat down again.

Moody limped over, and threw himself in the chair next to Ron. The chair creaked at the onslaught. "If you didn't want to know the truth, you shouldn't have forced it out of me with magic!" he cackled. Then he glanced at Draco. "He Who Must Not Be Named will kill you, boy, when he finds out you've corrupted his Dark Mark barrier like that."

Draco winced in fear, then straightened up on his chair with a look of determination on his face. "I figured as much. I'll just have to add my Virginity Trap to the long list of things the Dark Lord wants to kill me for," he said brazenly. He added, "He's got no sense of humour. Screw him!"

Moody's real eye positively twinkled at Draco. "That's the spirit!" he growled. "I had doubts about you at first, but you seem to be coming along nicely. For a Death Eater under an Unbreakable Vow, anyway." Moody's expression became sober, apparently at the thought of the Unbreakable Vow, and he gazed thoughtfully at Draco. Harry thought Moody was taking particular note of the daisy shaped bruises on Draco's neck. Draco gave Moody a nervous look in return and opened his mouth to speak, but Moody raised a hand. "Quiet!" He put his scarred head on one side and listened like a predator and then he grinned. "There are two people coming down the stairs!"

Draco got to his feet. "I'll take the Virginity Trap down!"

"No! I absolutely forbid it!" exclaimed Moody. Draco froze. The quartet looked at Moody in surprise and Draco slowly sat down again.

"This is the perfect chance for the Order to prove themselves," said Moody. "We're fighting a war here! Everyone needs to be on guard at all times and in all places for Dark Magic. Constant vigilance!" he bellowed and Ron and Draco flinched. "Those who don't spot the Trap, and work out what it is, should leave the Order. I'm going to enjoy watching this!"

The footsteps grew louder, and Fred and George appeared at the top of the stairs. "Morning!" shouted Fred. At least, Harry thought it was Fred. He'd never managed to work out which twin was which.

"What are you all sitting around for?" asked George. Harry realised that they must look odd, the five of them sitting in a row of chairs facing the stairs, so early in the morning.

Moody glared at the quartet to keep them quiet. Then he looked back at Fred and George. "We're waiting for the show..." he said.

"What show is that?" asked George, incautiously trotting down the stairs with Fred beside him.

Moody did not reply right away. He watched Fred and George draw closer, entirely oblivious to the Virginity Trap, until both of them tried to take another step and Harry saw their cheeks go white and flat, as if they'd pressed their faces up against a solid, invisible wall. Both twins yelped and tried to step backwards, but the spell caught them, and lifted them off the ground. They thrashed helplessly about in midair.

"...that show," finished Moody, with a leer.

Ron leaped to his feet and punched the air in victory. "You're VIRGINS!"

Fred and George struggled against the Virginity Trap. "No, we're not!" they yelled. But their ears and faces were turning crimson, and Harry could tell they were lying. Ron was doing a sort of victory dance all around the kitchen, involving much arm waving, leaping up and down and whooping.

"You bloody ARE virgins! And you walked right into a Dark Magic barrier without even spotting it! Pathetic! I wouldn't let you two join the Order if you paid me!" shouted Moody.

Fred and George yelled abuse at everyone, and hurled threats of violence against Ron, who was still dancing joyfully, but as they were still dangling in midair, their threats weren't very intimidating. Harry, Ron and Draco howled with laughter and Hermione's lips twitched, but otherwise she managed to maintain her disapproving expression.

"You can't deny that you're virgins. You're caught in a Virginity Trap! Look, it doesn't catch me!" laughed Ron, stepping forwards and backwards through the Trap.

"A woman would have to be mental to sleep with you!" yelled Fred. He winced and added, "I didn't really mean that!" when Hermione hurled her wet towel at him and it hit him in the face.

"All right, so we are virgins. We admit it! So what?" shouted George.

"Yeah, we've been too busy at the store to have time for ... oh, shut up Ron!" snarled Fred at his brother, who was on the floor on his hands and knees, thumping the floor with one fist and laughing so hard that he was crying. "Just you wait! We'll kill you when we get down!"

Ron looked up, alarmed, but Moody chuckled. "We can't have them killing you. You'll have to leave them up there, Ron! Good morning, Lupin! Tonks!"

"What's going on, Moody?" came Lupin's hoarse voice from the top of the stairs. Harry waved a cheery good morning to him and Tonks. He hadn't heard them walking down the stairs but that was hardly surprising, given all the noise Fred and George were making.

"You're supposed to work it out for yourself. These idiots didn't!" said Moody, pointing a thick finger at the struggling, swearing Weasley twins.

Lupin and Tonks glanced at the twins and walked towards the Virginity Trap with their wands out. Harry saw them both glance at Draco after a moment of testing the barrier, but then Lupin, followed by Tonks, burst out laughing.

"So you're virgins? I never would have guessed," said Lupin mildly, to the twins, as he strolled through the barrier hand in hand with Tonks.

"Err, maybe I should let you both down?" said Tonks. But Harry saw Moody wink at her and shake his head and Tonks shrugged and sat down at the kitchen table next to Lupin.

Harry was relieved to see, as more and more Order members came down the stairs, that every single one of them found the Virginity Trap funny. No one else was trapped, and the Order members who had found their way through first, sat at the kitchen table and watched and waved cheekily at those still walking down the stairs. Some of them even gave Draco a pat on the back before they sat down. They all seemed to share Moody's opinion that the Virginity Trap would put Draco into Voldemort's bad books, and this made Draco seem more trustworthy and safer to have around.

Unfortunately, Ron had climbed back onto his feet and was taunting his brothers when his mother came down the stairs.

"RONALD WEASLEY!"

Before long, Harry found himself, along with Draco and Ron, preparing breakfast for the entire Order as a punishment, under the watchful and furious eyes of Mrs Weasley. Moody had freed the twins, but this hadn't satisfied Mrs Weasley, who now had him passing out cutlery and plates. Moody wasn't the slightest bit penitent, and he winked his real eye at Harry across the room as Harry mixed a big pan of scrambled eggs. Ron, who was stirring a big pan filled with frying bacon and mushrooms, kept bursting out laughing for no apparent reason, and when he laughed, he set Harry and Draco off laughing as well. Mrs Weasley glared at them and muttered under her breath.

The twins sat sulkily by themselves. Harry could see them discussing something in quiet, urgent tones, but he couldn't hear them. The rest of the Order, apart from Mrs Weasley, seemed much more cheerful than they had the night before, and the kitchen was full of talking and laughter.

Harry, Ron and Draco were still bursting out laughing at random intervals when they sat down to eat. Hermione gave a little sniff to show that she wasn't speaking to any them, but Harry was pleased to see that Ron and Draco were now talking to each other as if they'd been friends all their lives. There are some things you can't share without ending up liking each other, and proving that abusive older brothers are still virgins is one of them.

oOoOoOo

"We want to buy your Virginity Trap, Draco," chorused Fred and George.

Draco looked up coolly. He'd been chatting with Ron and Harry, over the last of their breakfast, about the relative merits of the Chudley Cannons versus the Falmouth Falcons Quidditch teams, and Harry saw that the Slytherin didn't look the least bit surprised at the twin's demand.

"You want to sell my Virginity Trap in your joke shop," stated Draco. His eyes were cool and unperturbed.

"That's right," said George. "We were just talking about it. We reckon we'll sell hundreds of them."

"But we think the real money will be in hats that make the wearer appear to NOT be a virgin, when they are," said Fred. "They'll be a huge demand, once we start selling Virginity Traps. The virgins won't want to be caught!"

Draco drummed his fingertips on the table and looked slyly at Fred and George. "You've clearly thought this all out. Sounds like my spell could make you a fortune," he said, leaning in his chair. "I MIGHT be open to negotiations. IF you're polite to me from now on, and Harry, Hermione, Ron and I get a share of the Virginity Trap profits." Fred and George spluttered, Hermione looked irritated, but Ron beamed. "And if you do the washing up instead of us," added Draco with a smirk, pushing his empty plate towards Fred, with one finger.

Muttering mutinously about manipulative Slytherins and a certain blond one in particular, the twins picked up all the empty plates and glasses on the table and headed for the sink.

"Wicked!" exclaimed Ron, watching his brothers doing Draco's bidding with delight.

"You've never had a Slytherin friend before, have you Ron?" asked Draco. His eyes glittered. "We're good value!"

"I see that!" said Ron happily. "I'm starting to think that there's nothing wrong with Slytherins - when they're on your side!"

Hermione gave a furious sigh. "If you boys have quite finished humiliating Fred and George and talking about Quidditch, we should get back to work," she said, impatiently. "Remember, V-Voldemort is still out there."

Ron and Draco flinched at the name, and Harry saw their faces fall. The quartet's mood suddenly became very serious.

"You're right, Hermione. We shouldn't be mucking around like this when we could be getting rid of HIM," said Ron, sounding chastened.

"So, how is the Order fighting him, may I ask?" said Draco. His grey eyes became fierce. "Why haven't you KILLED him yet?"

"We mean to," said Harry. He wondered how much he should tell Draco about Horcruxes, and decided it would be safest to say as little as possible. "There are certain things we have to do first."

"What things?" exclaimed Draco, "What could possibly be more important than killing that-?"

"Trust us, Draco," said Harry interrupted. "We know what we're doing and there are certain, unavoidable things that we need to do first." He took a deep breath and decided to take a small risk. "There are things that we must find."

"Things that will kill him?" demanded Draco.

Harry took a deep breath. "Yes," he said. It wasn't entirely true, but Harry reasoned that if he told Draco that destroying the things would leave Voldemort mortal, Draco might guess what kind of object they were. It didn't feel good to be keeping things from Draco. Harry had a strong impulse to trust him utterly and tell him everything.

"So where are those ... things?" asked Draco, looking vindicated.

"One of them Voldemort keeps by his side at all times, and we haven't been able to get close enough to him to get it," piped up Ron.

"There were other things too, but they've gone missing. Someone - we don't know who - has stolen them," said Hermione.

Draco looked at each of them in turn and took a deep breath. "I want to help you. But I don't know how much help I can be, if I don't even know what those things are," he admitted.

"Maybe there are other ways you can help us. Do you know where Voldemort is?" asked Harry.

Flinching at the name, Draco said, "No. I only ever saw him when he called me to his side through the Dark Mark. I never knew where he went afterwards." His expression hardened. "If I knew where he was, Harry, I'd tell you."

Harry nodded. Draco's eyes were unshielded by Occlumency and he looked highly desirable. Harry felt a small tingle of desire welling up and saw an answering gleam in Draco's pale eyes.

"Surely you have some idea who the thief is?" asked Draco.

"We think it's Voldemort," said Harry, and Draco and Ron winced. "Not many people knew about ... the things. I knew, and Dumbledore knew. A few of the top ranking Order knew about them as well. But that's all. And none of the Order members would have taken those things without telling anyone else."

"The thief actually stole one of the things directly from an Order member. Dumbledore's brother. The thief stupefied and robbed him," said Hermione.

Draco looked stunned, then jubilant. "Dumbledore has a brother?" he shouted, and some of the Order members in the kitchen turned their heads to glance at him.

Harry looked at Draco's ecstatic face. "Don't get too excited," he said dully. "He's not like Albus Dumbledore at all. He won't fight Voldemort for us, if that's what you think."

Draco flinched and looked disappointed. "What a shame! But, at least that proves one thing. If the thief left Dumbledore's brother alive, then the thief isn't V..." Draco choked on the name, and seemed frustrated with himself. "I mean, the thief isn't the Dark Lord."

"Maybe V-Voldemort didn't want to kill that day?" suggested Hermione.

"No," sneered Draco, in a tone of absolute certainty. "The Dark Lord and the Death Eaters kill every chance that they get. I-I saw it. They leave no one alive." Draco looked sickened at the memories. "Except you, Harry." Harry saw the quartet turn their heads to look at him in curiosity. "We had orders. The Dark Lord wants to k-kill you personally. On p-pain of death, we weren't allowed to h-harm you." Draco's voice shook, as if the thought of Harry being killed was horrifying.

"Strange," said Ron. "If He Who Must Not Be Named wants you dead, Harry, why would it matter who did it?"

"I don't know, but I've heard about those orders before," said Harry. "I heard Snape shouting at the Death Eaters, just after he'd killed Dumbledore." His hands clenched into angry fists.

"So the thief can't be V-Voldemort," said Hermione. "But if it's not a member of the Order, who else could it be?"

"Could someone have taken those things by accident?" asked Draco. "Just a random witch or wizard, or a Muggle?"

"No," said Hermione. "Some of them were hidden away with magic. Only a very, very powerful wizard or witch, with lots of practice at finding and fighting Dark Magic, could have taken them." She picked at her hair, as if remembering the seaweed that had been tangled up in it, from the sea cave she and Ron had fought their way through.

"Powerfully magical, but not the Dark Lord. Close to Dumbledore or they wouldn't have known about ... the things, whatever they are. But not a member of the Order," said Draco thoughtfully. A smug, triumphant smile spread over his face. "I can't believe you three. You're stumped? Isn't it OBVIOUS who the thief is?"

"It might be obvious to you, but no, it's not to us! Harry was saying yesterday that we needed a fresh perspective," said Hermione. "So, who do you think it is, Draco?"

Draco sat up straight, looking every inch the superior, pure-blood aristocrat. He grinned at the three of them. "It was your lucky day when I came along! I can help you after all," he boasted. "The wizard I'm thinking about is one of the most powerful in the world, and he was one of Dumbledore's best friends for years. I bet he's gathering those things so that he can use them against the Dark Lord." Draco glanced around with satisfaction at their fascinated faces, and leaned forward conspiratorially. Harry, Hermione and Ron leaned forward too, with eager looks on their faces. "The thief is Severus Snape!" Draco whispered dramatically.

Harry saw a flare of understanding in Hermione's eyes. Ron merely looked confused.

But Harry frowned angrily. "SNAPE?" he bellowed and the rest of the quartet winced at the yell so close to their ears. They leaned back.

Heads turned in the kitchen. Even Fred and George looked up from the washing up.

"Harry, keep your voice down," said Hermione uncomfortably.

Harry made an effort to lower his voice. It took a lot of effort. Hot rage was bubbling up inside him, at the very thought of the old head of Slytherin. "Snape is a cold-blooded murderer and he's Voldemort's second-in-command, Draco. You can't seriously believe that he's on our side and collecting ... the things ... for our benefit. If he's collecting them, he's probably giving them to Voldemort."

Draco made an obvious effort to out stare Harry and not flinch at the name. "Professor Snape isn't a cold-blooded murderer. He was forced to kill Dumbledore. We've talked about this before," he said bravely.

"Yes we have, and I said-" Harry began but Hermione cut him off, though Harry's anger was clearly making her nervous.

"I think you're right, Draco," she said. "Snape really is the only person it could be. But how can we know for sure he's got those ... things?"

"Send him a letter by owl and ask him," said Draco instantly.

Harry snorted and Ron said, "He's a high ranking Death Eater, Draco. He's got anti-tracking spells and all sorts of security. Highly-trained Ministry Aurors can't find Snape, let alone an owl."

"My owl would find him," said Draco. "He's a close friend of my family."

Hermione's face lit up.

Harry gave a humourless laugh and stared incredulously at Hermione and Draco. "I don't believe it! You're both actually entertaining the idea that Snape could still be working for the Order - even though he killed Dumbledore right in front of me! What does Snape have to do to prove he's evil to you two? Get on a broomstick and skywrite, 'I, Severus Snape, am a slimy, greasy, evil, murdering git. Bwahahahaha!'?" Harry's voice rose and Hermione and Ron winced.

"Steady on, Harry. You're being a bit silly," said Ron. Harry glared at him and Ron fidgeted.

Hermione looked frightened.

But Draco's face was furious and implacable. "He's not evil, Harry, and I'll soon have proof," he said, giving Harry a quelling look. "I sent Professor Snape a letter last night with Hedwig. If owl post takes the usual amount of time, I should have his reply within two hours."

Harry felt his stomach drop to his feet. "You sent my owl to the man who killed Dumbledore? Draco - you've killed her! I had Hedwig since first year! She was my pet!" he choked.

"I haven't killed her, Harry," said Draco, in a voice of forced calm. "You'll see her soon."

"Draco, why did you send Snape a letter?" asked Hermione, in a fluttery, nervous voice.

"To let him know I'm okay," said Draco. "He's the closest thing to a parent I've got now."

"How could you?" snarled Harry, who wasn't really listening anymore. "Poor Hedwig!"

"He's determined to hate Snape," said Hermione to Draco. "He always has been."

"Dumbledore said that to me once, and look what happened to him!" shouted Harry.

"Harry, Hedwig is probably okay. I'm SURE she's okay, and this letter could be very helpful to us," said Hermione There was a bit of anger mixed up with her nervousness. "Please! Give Hedwig a chance! At least wait until the two hours is up before you go into mourning."

Abruptly, Harry got to his feet. "Fine! I will! But don't expect me to wait near you three!" he spat and stormed off up the stairs.

oOoOoOo

_**Author's Notes: **Just a subtle, quiet request - I LOVE REVIEWS! PLEASE, PLEASE REVIEW! Go oooon! The review field is only a couple of seconds of scroll down away, and you'll make my day! ;-)_

_**Replies to Reviews:** Fifty-five reviews to reply to this time. Thanks everyone! ;-) Avalene: Thanks for all your reviews! Ch.17 - Ron's not technically a virgin, but I guess he was a slash virgin, up until that point! Ch.14 - Love the crazy fangirl squeal of doom! Ch.13 - Glad you're amused! Ch.11 - Thanks! Same to you! ;-) Ch.10 - This review looks cut off! Ch.9 - Thanks! Ch.8 - Yes, the Vow will be driving them up the wall. But they ain't so little! ;-) Ch.7 - Don't you think a stampede of warthogs would be a rather quick way for Umbridge to die? I've got a method in mind that will take AGES! Bwahahahaha! ;-) Ch.6 - Devious, and loveless (though that's not surprising!) Ch.4 - Thanks! Must read your fic! Ch.3 - Thanks! Ch.2 - Hugs back! GaiazHeart: I think the twins were even more embarrassed than Harry this chapter! Wolf Queen 14: I will kill Umbridge in a later chapter. ;-) silver drgon: Thanks very much! Ron was a bit shaken! HecateDeMort: Thanks! ;-) xoxSasukexox: Thanks! I sent this chapter too, but I haven't heard back from you yet. I'll edit this chapter when I see your reply. I wonder how many times I'll have left out the word 'that' this time? ;-) Darkna: Thanks for your review and putting me in your alerts. Riku-Rocks: Thanks. I haven't read all that many Harry/Draco fics but I'm glad you think my fic is believable. Crowley Black: Thank you! I'll use my evil laughter now. Bwahahahahaha! ;-) GreenEyedCatDragon: Poor Ron was shocked, but he really needs to get over it. Good on you for spotting the fact that Harry's more like Draco's bodyguard than the other way around! ;-) Kit turned Mighty: Heh, heh, thanks for the lovely review! Glad you liked the...progression...in the story! Lily Elizabeth Snape: Grin! Made you swear! ;-) emeraud.silver: Ron really needs to get over it! musicalsilence: What an enthusiastic review! Thanks! I'll try to update faster. Katharina-B: Thank you! I've never read a 'Ron walks in on Harry and Draco shagging' fanfic before. Darn it! I thought I'd invented something new! Oh well... ;-) Ari Maxwell00909: Waaa! My invention has been used before. ;-) Must invent something really new. I guess that means reading more H/D so I know what's out there. Anyone got recommendations? ggggggggggg: Ch.13 - Moody would put a jinx on you for that! ;-) Ch.5 - Thanks! Bishou: Thank you very much for your review! I hope this chapter was suitably cliffhangery! Yellowwolf: Happy New Year! Harry's scar will definitely show up again in this fanfic... Black Padfoot: Thanks. The Vow is still there. There will be more about it in the next chapter. Jane-Lily: Thanks very much! It's very flattering to be told The Bodyguard is one of the best post HBP fics out there. ;-) ElvenTwinLover: Thanks! There will be shaggy stuff in nearly every chapter from now on. Draco just wants Harry... ;-) Shame Ness2: Ron shouldn't be upset, but he is, poor baby! ;-) Thanks for the review! Ladyichabod: Thanks for your review! I set out to write an angst fic but it seems to be turning into a comedy/adventure fic, though there will be some angst later. I don't normally like angst much - I find it frustrating. You look at the characters suffering away with secret loves and problems and you think, "A 30 second conversation would relieve this angst completely! Why don't you two learn how to communicate?" ;-) Draco switches personalities a lot but I made him like that in the hope he'd be more canon. Canon!Draco is a mercurial little bugger. The second time we see him, he goes from asking Harry to be his friend, to giving Harry death threats and trying to steal his food, in under a minute! I agree about what you think about Ron. I always thought Canon!Ron had a lot of growing up to do. anonymous: Thanks letting me know about painless j's Livejournal. I found lots of good HP fics reviewed there. But she hasn't reviewed this fic! I guess it's not good! SOB! ;-) JacobimVonStyluss: Thanks very much! Great review! This fic needs more Mellow!Harry, though I always get worried when I'm writing him that he's not in character and I feel I should make him angry! ;-) Glad you liked the sex scene! I think I should go back and turn all the 'pants' to 'trousers' to make it properly British. ;-) T.Felton: Thanks! Very good guesses there:-) NinjaoftheDarkness: Thank you! Ron would be shocked to hear he's a pervert! Moody's more of a perv! ;-) wizli: Oh, excellent guesses:-) Thanks for your review! And thanks for letting me know about those other fanfiction sites. Witch2b: Oh, yes. Harry's a top all right! Thanks for your review! The Earth Mystic: Oh no! I've sent you crazy! Will that happen every time a chapter has shagging? ;-) fei-yen: Good guess! ;-) 2007 isn't looking bright: Thanks, I'm glad it's not stereotypical. I hope this chapter was funny. ProperT: Yes, they should have remembered Ron wanted them to wake up early. Then they might have remembered to lock the door! Emu Alive and Kicking: Another good guess! Yes, the chapter did move very fast. From enemies to sex to dating to I love you. Interesting that you mentioned the Vow! ;-) Stefania Mo: Bwahahahah! ;-) miME-chan: Thanks! I do know what a lemon is, and I think the last chapter (and probably this one too) qualified as lemons. Lisa: Ummm, I hope it's rated T. Not for children? That would be T, wouldn't it? (I'm not very familiar with the rating system.) Yes, it is strange that Draco loves Harry after only a few days of knowing him. ;-) Crick118: Thanks very much. I consider 'highly realistic' to be the highest praise! ;-) I would love to think that HP/DM could happen in the canon. It's about time that gay relationships in literature went mainstream. Potter's Wifey: Thanks! MayuBlack: Thanks! Yes, something's happening with the Vow. karenelaine: I agree that the entire Ministry should be checked for Dark Marks, but I doubt Umbridge or Percy have them. People don't need to have sworn allegiance to Voldemort in order to be utter scum. Airlady: Thanks very much! More chapters following... _


	19. The Slytherins Who Lived In Hiding: BJ!

_**Slash Warning: Slashiness continues here. Be warned, I'll be bumping up the rating in the next chapter, for reasons that will become clear at the end of this chapter.**_

oOoOoOo

**The Bodyguard**

**Chapter 19: The Slytherins Who Lived In Hiding**

"You bad tempered git!" exclaimed Draco.

It was the first thing he said when Harry let him into the attic bedroom. Half an hour had passed, and Harry had recovered enough of his temper to feel embarrassed about shouting at his friends. Hermione was right as usual, Harry realised. It was not only premature to be mourning Hedwig, but it was a disservice to his owl. Hedwig had bravely fought her way past Umbridge in Fifth Year, and had tracked down Sirius in hiding before that. Surely, Harry reasoned, she could cope with a skinny, greasy git like Snape?

"I'm sorry, Draco," said Harry, running his fingers through his hair. "I shouldn't have shouted. Hedwig can take care of herself."

But Draco seemed vastly - and snidely - amused. "Thanks for the apology, Harry. But it's not the first time you've lost your temper, not by a long shot. Hermione and Ron have just taken turns treating me to A Hundred Great Screaming Tantrums by The Famous Harry Potter. You were worse in Fifth Year, apparently," he said, closing and locking the door behind him.

Harry's cheeks burned at the memories. "I remember," he said. Draco's smirk broadened and Harry guessed that the Slytherin was enjoying having one over him. But Harry's annoyance was overshadowed by his guilt. Why couldn't he be like Dumbledore, and never lose his temper at all?

"We decided that you yell at your friends because you don't have parents to yell at," said Draco. "And you really should control yourself, Harry. Hermione and Ron - you terrify them when you're angry."

"What about you?" asked Harry softly.

"You've already forgotten how hard I tried to make you angry at school? I'm disappointed, Harry!" said Draco with bravado. Harry knew he must have frowned, for the Slytherin immediately started cheerfully laying on the guilt. "I mean, what's the worst thing you can do to me, Harry? Beat me up? You've done that to me so many times. Enough times for me to know that there are always healing spells. Use Legilimency on me? I don't care what you see, Harry. I've nothing to hide."

Though he knew what Draco was up to, Harry hung his head, feeling alone and miserable. But the feeling disappeared when Draco grabbed him in a tight embrace. A tingle of pleasure ran down Harry's body, and he wrapped his arms around Draco in return, and buried his face in his soft, shampoo-scented hair.

"I love you just the way you are, Harry." Draco's voice was silky. "I couldn't bear it if you were a Goody-Two-Shoes. If you were, you'd have nothing in common with me." Harry could hear his teasing smirk. "Besides, beating up Dark wizards is something that the Chosen One SHOULD be doing." His voice dropped to a purr. "Do it to V..." He choked loudly, next to Harry's ear. "I mean, the Dark Lord, and I'll be very, very grateful."

Harry leaned into him and felt a grin spread over his face. "How grateful?" he teased, and raised his head to look Draco full in the face. His boyfriend's grey eyes burned with amused desire and Harry couldn't take his eyes off him.

"This grateful," said Draco and lowered his lips onto Harry's.

Harry kissed him back hungrily. It seemed the perfect way to make up. He felt Draco pushing him backwards, until his back pressed against the wall.

They were both gasping when Draco pulled his mouth away. "We've got privacy for a minute or two, love. We'd better make the most of it." He slid down Harry's body and undid his trousers.

Harry moaned. He thought that he'd never seen anything as sexy as Draco just then - his radiant, pale skin, sleek hair, and brilliant grey eyes looking up at him. But then Draco opened his mouth and leaned forward, and all coherent thought left Harry's mind; his knees trembled and his eyes rolled back in his head with pleasure.

oOoOoOo

Harry let Draco do up his jeans, and then pulled him up into an embrace.

"I love you, Harry," Draco whispered into his ear.

"I love ... hearing you say that," said Harry. He blinked and wondered at what he'd nearly said. They kissed. Draco's mouth tasted ... interesting. Familiar. Harry explored it gently with his tongue.

"Harry, Moody, Lupin and Tonks want to talk to you," admitted Draco reluctantly, as Harry started kissing his neck.

"What, now?" murmured Harry, distracted by Draco's hands running up his back.

"Yes. They said they'd follow me up the stairs in a few minutes." Draco opened his eyes, and moved away with a groan of frustration. "Go on. If you thought Ron walking in was embarrassing..."

Harry raised his head with a sigh. "What do they want?" he asked frustratedly.

Draco shrugged. "They wouldn't tell me. It must be Order business." He licked his lips and it was all Harry could do not to kiss him again.

oOoOoOo

Moody, Lupin and Tonks were deep in conversation, on the second floor landing, but they stopped and looked up as Harry and Draco approached. "Just the people we needed to see," said Moody. Harry saw them all exchange glances, and then Tonks nodded and spoke up.

"Could I please have a private word, Draco? I think I should teach you to use Frendocuro properly." She was smiling but it was quite plain to Harry that Frendocuro wasn't the real reason Tonks wanted to take Draco aside.

Draco appeared to have the same impression. He glanced nervously at Harry for permission. Harry nodded, and watched Draco and Tonks walk downstairs without him. Draco kept glancing back over his shoulder.

When they were out of sight, Harry turned back to Moody and Lupin. "What did you want to talk to me about?" he asked. He saw Moody's mismatched eyes scan over the daisy shaped bruises on his throat.

"Jumped on you last night, did he? That boy?" asked Moody gruffly.

"His name's Draco," said Harry testily. "And, forgive me, but what we do in private isn't anyone else's business. I'm sick of people acting surprised."

"Oh, I'm not surprised. Far from it," said Moody. His scarred face was grim.

Harry stared at him.

"We were expecting it, after our little chat with Barnes, outside the Wizengamot," said Lupin.

"What did Barnes tell you?" asked Harry, thinking bitterly of the scarred Head Auror, who had been instrumental, as well as Umbridge, in inflicting the Vow on Draco.

Neither Moody, nor Lupin, replied. They looked down the stairs, after Draco, and Harry was surprised to see that they had expressions of concern, and - could it be? - guilt.

"The Virginity Trap was a brilliant idea. He's a funny lad. I've never seen one of He Who Must Not Be Named's spells so imaginatively screwed up," said Moody.

"I haven't laughed so hard in ages," said Lupin. "He reminds me of Sirius in a way. Same reckless sense of humour."

"What did Barnes tell you?" persisted Harry.

"Barnes said he'd be..." Moody paused as if wondering how much to say, and then he went on gruffly, "...vulnerable to you, Harry." He rubbed his scarred chin. "Promise me you'll look after him," he added unexpectedly.

Harry stared at Moody. He was certain there was something he wasn't being told, but he wasn't sure how to get Moody or Lupin to admit what they knew. "What are you talking about? Of course, I'll look after him! I'm looking after him now," he said, with a growing sense of alarm.

"Yes, we've noticed," growled Moody, his eyes flicking once again to Harry's neck.

"Don't order him do anything he wouldn't otherwise do," warned Lupin. His prematurely lined face was tired and sad.

"No, I'd never ... why are you saying this?"

Moody was still staring after Draco. "It's no wonder Umbridge waited until Dumbledore was dead before she tried this. He would have been furious." Moody's expression hardened. "Of course, it's Draco's fault that Dumbledore isn't here anymore."

"Draco would never have killed Dumbledore and Dumbledore knew it," stated Harry. "Dumbledore offered him and his family sanctuary, and the only reason he didn't take it up, is that he didn't have time. The Death Eaters arrived before he could speak."

"Draco let the Death Eaters into Hogwarts," growled Moody emphatically. "No, it's his fault, all right." His sad expression had completely gone.

Lupin looked uncomfortable. "At any rate, I suggest you reread the Vow, Harry," he said.

"I will," said Harry, resolving to get the Vow back from Hermione, sit down in the kitchen and read it from beginning to end, as soon as possible.

oOoOoOo

Harry sighed, took off his glasses and laid them on the kitchen table. He rubbed his temples, squeezed his eyes shut, and tried to resist the headache he could feel coming on. He'd reread the Vow three times - enough to confirm that it truly was the most complex, boring thing that he'd ever read. He barely understood it any better now. Though he had the impression that Draco was tightly bound to him, the details escaped him entirely, concealed, as they were, in line after line of legal jargon. He stashed the Vow in his pocket, put his glasses back on, and looked across the table at Ron, Hermione and Draco, toying with the idea of asking Hermione for advice, but she was extremely busy.

"Occlumens!" she said, as Draco tried to break into her mind. Ron watched her with concern. She was pale and perspiring, and she looked like she had a headache that was at least as bad as Harry's, and possibly worse.

"Not bad, Hermione," said Draco. "I can't get in. But the spell must be silent or there's no point."

"All right," said Hermione weakly. Harry saw her lips twitch, as she thought the word Occlumens. Draco stared at her, and then shook his head.

"It's not working."

"I'm exhausted," said Hermione, mopping her brow with a handkerchief. "You've tested Ron already. Why don't you test Harry while I have a rest?"

A grin spread over Draco's face. "What a brilliant idea! Wait until you see this!"

Immediately, Harry did his best to forget his headache. He thought about Dumbledore and felt peace fill his mind. Occlumens, he thought. With a scrabbling sensation, like claws against a glacier, he felt Draco try, and fail, to enter his mind.

Draco stopped his attack. "Harry had a breakthrough last night," he said proudly. "He can not only do Occlumency now, but he can do it silently and keep me out."

Hermione simply beamed at both of them and Ron said, "Wicked!"

"It's all down to Draco's teaching, of course," said Harry with a wry smile, remembering Draco's boast of the night before.

Draco simply beamed at him. "Naturally! And I can teach you Frendocuro as well. Tonks showed me. She said the trick is in the way you hold your wand. Hold it too tight and bruises go daisy shaped. Hold it loose and..." He reached out with his wand and Harry felt the bruises vanishing from his neck.

"What else did you and Tonks talk about?" Harry asked curiously, when Draco had finished healing his bruises and Harry had started treating Draco's bruises, one by one.

Draco shrugged. "You, mostly. She wanted to know how I felt about you, so I told her I loved you." Hermione and Ron looked at Harry and he blushed. "It's no great secret."

"Not now, anyway," muttered Harry.

"Then she asked me how I knew." Draco went on,. "My answer took ages! I had plenty of reasons! But, Merlin! How nosy can the Order be? I guess they don't want the evil Slytherin breaking the poor, naive Gryffindor's heart." He winked.

"It's not that," said Harry. "It's something to do with the Vow. Barnes told them it makes you vulnerable to me." He noticed that both Draco and Hermione immediately participated in a bit of synchronised floor and ceiling inspection, looking anywhere but directly at him.

Ron, however, didn't act the least bit suspiciously. "Is it something to do with the strangling flame thing you told us about? That sounds like a crime all right. Just the sort of thing Umbridge would do to people."

"Yeah," said Harry, looking at Hermione, who was still examining the ceiling.

"I can understand feeling sorry for someone cursed with one of those things," said Ron, with feeling.

"I'm touched, Ron. Really. But I don't want anyone feeling sorry for me," muttered Draco.

"I think it's more than that," said Harry. "I think the Vow is forcing feelings onto Draco." He was surprised when Draco rounded on him and stared him straight in the eye.

"That's your filthy Muggle family talking, Harry. You doubt anyone could love you. But you shouldn't!"

Harry tried to stare back at Draco, but found that he couldn't meet his eyes.

"So the Vow's some sort of Love Potion?" asked Ron. He glanced from Draco to Harry and back again. "You both DID get together pretty smartly."

"We're teenagers, we're sleeping in the same bed, and we'd both nearly died the day before. What do you expect us to do, Ron? Hold hands until we got married?" asked Draco scathingly.

"You don't talk like someone under a Love Potion, Draco," said Ron, with the ghost of a smirk.

"No, he doesn't," said Harry, feeling the tiniest bit better. "But we should try something. Ron, remember when you were under Romilda Vane's Love Potion and you couldn't bear to hear anyone say bad things about her?"

Ron shuddered. "Yes, I remember. Let's try that." He looked at Draco, who folded his arms sulkily, and then back at Harry. "Harry, you're a tosser," he said.

"I couldn't agree more," sneered Draco. "But you're a tosser too, Ron, and the way you two keep harping on about the Vow is getting on my nerves. Shut up about it!"

Hermione made a muffled sound that could have been a laugh. But she looked away when Harry glanced at her.

"Not a Love Potion, then," said Ron seriously. "I think the Order are wrong."

Harry nodded, but he still felt a slight sense of unease.

Hermione finally looked at Harry. "Why don't you teach Draco how to produce a Patronus so that he can send messages?" she suggested.

"Good idea," said Harry, glad to get off the subject of the Vow.

"I've never heard of anyone using a Patronus to send messages," said Draco. He also seemed relieved to be talking about something else.

"I'm not surprised. Only the Order do it. It's a form of communication Dumbledore invented, and it's wonderful," said Hermione impressively. "A Patronus can go anywhere, they're resistant to Dark Magic so their message can't be tampered with, and you can't send lies with them. Each witch or wizard can only produce their own Patronus, and it's impossible to conjure another's, so you always know who sent the message. More than that, a Patronus changes, to reflect a person's loves and loyalties. They are a reflection of a person's true self."

"And all you need to make a Patronus, and send a message, is a wand," said Ron.

Looking suitably impressed, Draco asked: "How do I make a Patronus?"

"Harry's the one to teach you. He taught us," said Ron.

Nodding, Harry took out his wand. "The incantation is 'Expecto patronum' but you need to concentrate on a single, happy memory while you're saying it," he explained. "I'll show you. Expecto patronum!"

A vast, silvery stag exploded from Harry's wand. Draco tipped so far back in his chair that he nearly fell out of it and he grabbed at the table edge to save himself. He stared, opened-mouthed, turning to follow the stag as it sailed around the room, and swore softly. "I say! Will my Patronus be as cool as that?"

Shuffling his feet in embarrassment, Harry said, "It's not that cool." His Patronus, Prongs, flicked its proud, horned head at him, as if disagreeing.

"You never know what kind of animal you're going to get," said Ron. "And once you've got it, you're stuck with it. It's a bit like becoming an Animagus. You might want to be something impressive, like a white tiger, but if you turn into a warthog, tough luck!"

Draco looked nervous. "A white tiger is what I'm hoping for. Or maybe a bird. I could handle having an eagle or a stork as a Patronus. Just as long as it's something majestic."

"There's only one way to find out what kind of Patronus you'll get," said Harry.

Draco bit his lip and nodded. He closed his eyes a moment, as if thinking of a happy memory. Then he smiled and opened his eyes. "Expecto patronum!" Nothing happened. "Expecto patronum! Expecto patronum!"

"Keep trying," said Harry.

Five minutes passed, before shapeless wisps and tendrils of silvery fog exploded from Draco's wand.

"You did it!" exclaimed Harry. "That will scare off a Dementor or two!"

Puzzled, Draco watched the wispy tendrils fade. "I thought it was supposed to look like an animal?"

"Only a corporal Patronus looks like an animal," explained Harry. "A corporal Patronus is what you need to send messages and chase off lots of Dementors at once. What memory are you using?"

"The first time I rode a broomstick."

"That's what I used at first and it wasn't powerful enough," said Harry. "You need a REALLY happy memory for a corporal Patronus."

Draco frowned, obviously thinking hard, and then he grinned. "I've thought of one," he said. His grey eyes burned as he winked slowly at Harry.

Harry blushed. He could guess what memory Draco was using.

" Expecto patronum! Expecto patronum!" shouted Draco, and a silvery, furry animal burst from his wand. He stared eagerly at the glowing, creature. Then his face fell, and he looked outraged. "No! NO! I refuse to believe it. That's not my Patronus. There's a mistake here! It can't be! This can't be right!"

Draco's Patronus had sharp teeth, but it wasn't a white tiger. It was graceful, like an eagle or a stork, but definitely not majestic. It had an arched, elongated body, short legs, and a pale, pointed face with strangely human, almond-shaped eyes. It gambolled around the room, running into things and tumbling over with joy and excitement.

"It's a ferret!" wailed Draco in disbelief. "My Patronus is a ferret! I wanted a white tiger and I got a sodding white RAT!"

"Ferrets aren't rodents. They're part of the mustalid family, like otters," said Hermione. She waved her wand, "Expecto Patronum!" she exclaimed, and her silvery otter Patronus romped around on the floor with Draco's ferret. "Look! They're doing the weasel war dance together. How cute!"

"What's the weasel war dance?" asked Draco, grimly, watching as the otter and ferret played together like bouncing, hyperactive kittens.

"When they jump around like that. It just means that they're happy," said Hermione, smiling at her otter.

"Cheer up, Draco! At least your Patronus is better than mine," said Ron gloomily. He flicked his wand and his silvery Jack Russell dog ran around the room, barking excitedly. The ferret and otter stopped short at the sight of Ron's Patronus, then galloped after it playfully. The Jack Russell took one look at the pair of charging animals, and turned tail and fled, yelping fit to burst. Ron scowled, as his Patronus took refuge under the legs of Harry's stag.

"Look at that. The noble, majestic stag," Draco sneered jealously. "Your Patronus is hanging around with household pets, Harry. How does that make you feel?"

"Could have been worse. You could have had a warthog," said Ron philosophically.

"I can't believe that a ferret is a reflection of my true self," moaned Draco.

"Of course it is! You really are a perfect ferret," Harry teased. "Let's see, you're cute, cuddly, and playful, with nastiest, most vicious little mouth you can really hurt people with. Oh yes, and if you get into someone's trousers you're really dangerous!"

"Too much information, Harry!" shouted Ron, clapping his hands to his ears.

Harry was glad to see Draco smile. "That's right, Harry. I'm in your trousers now and you're never getting me out!" He pounced on Harry and they wrestled joyfully on the table, like the silvery animals on the floor.

"Stop it!" shouted Ron, hunching over and pressing his hands even tighter to his ears. "Just stop it, both of you!"

"My mother's best friend has a ferret, and she says you have to watch them carefully, because they'll go in and out of every hole they see," said Hermione, with a very straight face.

"La! La! La! Too much information! I can't hear you!" said Ron with his hands over his ears. Harry, Draco and Hermione roared with laughter.

Suddenly and silently, a white streak flew into the room. The quartet froze, and the four silvery animals stopped playing and also looked up. The white streak circled the table and came to land on Harry's shoulder, with a soft hoot of greeting.

"Hedwig!" cried Harry, utterly relived that she was alive. At first glance, she seemed completely unscathed by her visit to the second most powerful Dark wizard in the world but he wanted to make sure. He lifted her down from his shoulder, put her on the table, and began to examine her for injuries.

Hedwig tolerated his attentions for a few moments, but then she clicked her beak haughtily, as if offended that Harry thought her not up to the task of delivering a letter without a medical check up afterwards. She shrugged Harry's hands away and pointedly lifted her right leg, on which was tied a much scribbled on scrap of paper.

Harry glanced at Draco and Hermione. "Sorry, for shouting at you before," said Harry awkwardly. "Hedwig's fine-"

"It's okay, Harry. We don't need to hear it. Let's just have the letter," said Hermione, and Draco nodded.

Carefully, Harry untied the string holding the letter to Hedwig's leg. "Thank you, Hedwig," he said, gently stroking her head. The snowy owl blinked her large, yellow eyes at him, bobbed, and took off, flying back up the stairs to her perch and her owl treats. Draco took the letter from Harry and unfolded it.

"Read it aloud," said Hermione.

Draco read:

_Dear Severus,_

_I hope you are well._

_I have bad news. Mother has been murdered. She refused to murder Muggles on an Inferi making expedition and the Dark Lord said she would pay by becoming an Inferius herself. Aunt Bellatrix used the Killing Curse. There was nothing I could do. It was all over in seconds._

_I know how hard you tried to protect us from the Ministry and the other Death Eaters, and I don't blame you for this, Severus. I've barely had any privacy to grieve but know this - I want Bellatrix DEAD, and the Dark Lord too. In the end it is HIS fault that Mother is dead and Father is in Azkaban._

_I'm confident of striking back, because I now have people who can help me. Powerful people. You may have read in the Daily Prophet that the Ministry captured me. I was rescuing Harry Potter at the time. The reason I'm not imprisoned for life in Azkaban, is that Harry (yes, he asked me to use his first name!) spoke up for me at the Wizengamot and made me his bodyguard. I'm living with him at the Order of the Phoenix headquarters._

_The Ministry made me swear an Unbreakable Vow to Harry but it's not that much of a problem now that he said I can ignore it if people are being stupid. People are ALWAYS stupid. Harry and I are still fighting, but not as much as we used to, and he's been very generous, cooking for me and giving me his bed and his clothes. The Order hate me, but Hermione Granger is sticking up for me._

_You were right about Hermione, Severus. She never dated Harry. That Rita Skeeter article was rubbish from beginning to end. Hermione and I talked privately for twenty minutes this morning and it was a real eye opener. She apologized for telling everyone that I bought my way into the Slytherin Quidditch team with broomsticks, when Father only gave them to the team AFTER I'd won my trial fair and square. I feel a bit guilty about the things I said to her in school. She's dating Ron Weasley, who isn't too bad when you get to know him either. Though I still hate his brothers._

_Have you seen my Slytherin friends? I haven't been able to risk visiting them for two weeks, in case I was followed, and I hope that they haven't been discovered and they've got enough to eat. I'll owl Nott, as soon as Hedwig comes back after delivering this letter._

_I've been trying to teach Harry Occlumency, so he can shield his mind when he is duelling Death Eaters. He's TERRIBLE at Occlumency and he keeps hurting me when I try to teach him. But he's really good at Legilimency - isn't that strange? Harry told me you gave him Occlumency lessons (may I congratulate you for surviving them!) If you've got any advice for teaching Occlumency to Harry, please let me know. I don't want to let him leave the Headquarters until he's mastered it._

_We were all talking about you just now, Severus, but I think Harry was too hard on you. He doesn't know you at all._

_I have absolutely nothing to wear except Harry's Muggle jeans. I don't want to risk going back to Malfoy Mansion in case the Death Eaters are waiting for me. Is there any way I can reach my trunk at Hogwarts?_

_With warmest regards,_

_Draco Malfoy_

"Your Slytherin friends?" Hermione was curious.

"Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle. Theodore Nott. Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini," said Draco. "When I ... left Hogwarts, I owled my friends and told them not to go home, or they'd be drafted into the Death Eaters with their parents, the same as I was. I told them to pack up as if they were about to go home on the Hogwart's Express, but hide in Hogsmeade instead. Severus and I have been visiting them and bringing them food all this time."

"Oh!" mouthed Hermione. She held out her hand, and Draco handed her the letter.

"Hedwig's been out all night and she's tired," said Harry. He'd been listening to Draco's letter with interest. "I'll teach you how to send a message with your Patronus so you can contact your friends that way."

Draco nodded his thanks.

Hermione started to read Snape's letter aloud:

_Dear Draco,_

_Forgive me for saying this before I say anything else but this is highly important - DO NOT USE HARRY POTTER'S OWL AGAIN TO CONTACT ME AGAIN! A snowy owl is an extremely blatant choice of messenger, and everyone knows to whom that particular snowy owl belongs. Luckily, no Death Eaters were around when she arrived, otherwise my loyalty to the Dark Lord would have been severely called into question._

_Burn this letter when you have read it. I have written on the back of your letter so that you may destroy both at the same time._

_I can't express how sorry I am to hear about your mother, Draco. As you know, she and your father were my friends from the time I first came to Hogwarts. She would have wanted you to be strong at this time and she would have approved of what you are doing right now. Rest assured that the Dark Lord and Bellatrix will pay for her murder._

_Congratulations on your new role as Harry Potter's bodyguard. I'm worried that you'll need a bodyguard of your own to protect you from Potter. Don't let him torture you! There is so much pent up hatred and anger in that boy that I was able to reveal certain memories of him to the Dark Lord and persuade him that I hadn't killed Potter during our time at Hogwarts together because Potter was obviously growing into a powerful Dark wizard. I believe have seen most of Potter's childhood memories, thanks to those abominable Occlumency lessons. He was, by turns, abused and neglected by his Muggle family and is EXTREMELY damaged._

_My late, lamented friend, Albus Dumbledore, rarely made mistakes but we both considered leaving Potter to be raised by his Muggle family to be the greatest mistake of Dumbledore's entire life. Albus's mania to see and expect the best in people meant he was willing to trust Potter's Muggle family to raise him, even though I warned against putting Potter with his Aunt, Petunia Evans, whom I have had the misfortune to have met._

_Unfortunately, the mistake could not be rectified when it was discovered. Dumbledore could not move Potter in with a kind wizarding family because the magical protections in place obliged Potter to stay with the Muggles in that house until he was seventeen. Dumbledore tried to atone by making sure Potter was taken from that house as soon as possible during the summer, but it was something he never forgave himself for and we are all, including you, Draco, suffering the consequences._

_Regarding your problems teaching Potter Occlumency (I shudder at the thought of what he might do to you) consider that it is the damage inflicted on Potter by his Muggle family that make him unable to guard his mind. He has powerful feelings of anger and hatred that well up at the slightest provocation. He needs an equally powerful form of relaxation to counter these feelings, and help him perform Occlumency and I'm sure, with your reputation, that you can think of something. I suspect it will be something that you'll be glad to do._

_I am glad you have joined the Golden Gryffindor trio for more than reasons of your safety. They have been tediously slow in their attempts to thwart the Dark Lord so far and I have been forced to take matters into my own hands._

_I have not bothered to contact them, considering that that vicious thug, Potter, would try to kill me on sight, but as you have joined them, perhaps you can exert a moderating influence over Potter, so that we can all meet and talk. It is very important that we do so._

_I believe there is much you aren't telling me about your Unbreakable Vow, Draco. I would like to read it when we meet._

_I saw your Slytherin friends last week and they missed you. I have given them food but their current situation is precarious. Now that you are working openly with the Order, you must get them magically protected so that they'll never be forced to take the Dark Mark like you, and your parents were._

_The wards on your house should have kept it safe, but yes, you can go to Hogwarts and retrieve your trunk after you've seen about your friends. I hear no one has dared to move your trunk from your dorm, since your Death Eater status became widely known and I expect Professor Slughorn would like his dorm room back. The security spells around Hogwarts are still in place and the school is closed for summer, but Irma Pince, the Hogwarts Librarian, will let you in without question. Potter may also be able to persuade Professor McGonagall, Professor Hagrid, or Mr Filch to let you all in. I hear Professor Hagrid lives inside the castle now. I am very sorry about what happened to his shack, but don't you dare tell him!_

_You may not be able to enter Hogwarts, Draco, if McGonagall has restored the internal security spells that Dumbledore deactivated. Be cautious! Hogwarts is a stronghold of ancient magic, and not to be trifled with!_

_I remain, your teacher and Head of House in intention, if no longer in fact,_

_Severus Snape_

_P.S. BURN THIS LETTER IMMEDIATELY!_

"The slimy git!" snarled Harry. He'd almost heard Snape's sarcastic, silky voice, as Hermione read the letter aloud, and the way Snape talked about Dumbledore, as if he hadn't murdered him, made Harry incandescent with rage. But there was something in that letter he hadn't expected.

"I never knew he'd met my Muggle aunt." Harry looked to Draco for an explanation.

"Severus never mentioned her to me." Draco shrugged. "We'd better burn the letter."

Hermione tapped her wand on the letter. "Incendio!" she exclaimed, and the letter burned brightly to ashes.

"I can't use Hedwig again," said Draco. "I'll need to know how to use my Patronus to send messages."

"I can teach you how to send a message by Patronus, but Snape won't be able to reply," Harry sneered. "He doesn't have a Patronus."

"Yes, he does," said Draco quickly, looking at Harry with a frown. "It's one of the things I saw in his memories. He was only in Third Year. Pretty cool Patronus too - a black panther." He looked at Hermione. "What does THAT say about Severus Snape's true self?"

"A lot! Black panthers are stealthy, secretive hunters," said Hermione thoughtfully. "They're infamous for their ability to go about undetected. You don't know they're there, until they've got their teeth into you. What a perfect Patronus for a spy!"

"Yes, Snape was secretive, all right. Dumbledore had no idea Snape was going to kill him - until he did," said Harry, clenching his fists.

"Black panthers are the dark form of a leopard," Hermione added, looking sidelong at Harry, as though she disapproved of his anger. "Maybe it's a Muggle-culture thing only, but it's said that leopards never change their spots."

"Meaning Snape was a traitor all along?" said Harry. He heard all three of his friends sigh at once.

"Or meaning exactly the opposite," said Hermione crossly.

"If Snape had a Patronus, especially a cool one, like a panther, why didn't he show it during the Defence Against The Dark Arts Dementor lesson?" Ron wondered. "Remember, Harry? You and Snape had that big argument about the best way to drive off Dementors. You told him it was by Patronus, and dared him to produce one."

"Then Snape gave me a detention disembowelling Flobber Worms," growled Harry. "He gave me a zero for my Dementor homework too, the slimy git!"

"Have you actually seen Snape's Patronus directly?" Hermione asked Draco.

Draco shook his head. "I've only ever seen the memory."

"Hmmm," said Hermione, rubbing her mouth. There was a distant look in her eyes. "Maybe Snape didn't want to show his Patronus during class because it had changed?" she suggested.

"Reflecting his true loyalties?" asked Draco.

"We know what those are," said Harry loudly. "No wonder Snape didn't want to show his Patronus! And what a hypocrite! When Tonks fell in love with Lupin, and her Patronus changed into a werewolf, Snape sneered at her and told her it looked weak. I wonder what Snape's Patronus looks like now? Lord Voldemort?"

oOoOoOo

The silvery glow on the end of Draco's wand showed that his Patronus was still active. "Are you sure Patronus messaging will work between London and Scotland?" he asked.

"Distance won't make any difference," said Harry. "If you can send a message by Patronus between rooms, you can send it between countries." He'd taken one look at his friends after his Lord Voldemort Patronus comment and decided to stop talking about Snape before his friends all got up at once and hit him. Teaching Draco how to send Patronus messages had calmed them all down.

Draco gripped his glowing wand tightly.

"What made you tell your friends to hide in the Shrieking Shack?" asked Ron.

"It was the best hiding spot I could think of near Hogwarts. It's haunted so no one would think to look in there."

"You're not the first person to have thought that," said Hermione. "Dumbledore hid Remus Lupin in the Shrieking Shack when he was still at Hogwarts."

Draco thought about this. "Great minds think alike!" he boasted and Harry, Ron and Hermione snickered.

Eventually, the silvery ferret flitted back into the room, wiggling with excitement. "Now, correct me if I'm wrong, Harry. But if I flick my wand, we should hear the reply that my friends have sent," said Draco.

"That's right," said Harry.

Draco flicked his wand, and all four of them flinched as a terrified scream filled the kitchen.

"It's a rat! A glowing rat! Get it away from me!" screeched Pansy Parkinson's voice.

Draco looked scandalized.

"Don't be daft, Parkinson. It's a ferret. A ferret Patronus," said Blaise Zabini's sleek, superior voice.

Harry heard a couple of deep grunts. Crabbe and Goyle, he guessed.

"Quiet! Are you trying to get us all killed?"

Harry didn't recognise the voice. It was a boy, who sounded young, but intelligent, and he spoke in a low, urgent tone.

"Malfoy, it's Theodore Nott. If you're really with the Order now, then for Merlin's sake, come and get us! Now! The Death Eaters have tracked us down and there are Inferi all around the Shrieking Shack. I put up repelling spells, and I thought we were safe, but Malfoy, when your Patronus arrived, all the Inferi went berserk trying to get in! They broke down all the doors and windows on the ground floor, and they're inside. We can hear them moving about downstairs, trying to find a way up!"

Hermione clapped her hand to her mouth. "Draco, Patronuses attract Inferi," she gasped.

"Why didn't you warn me?" yelled Draco.

"We didn't know there were any near your friends," said Harry.

Pansy's voice whimpered. "They're coming up the stairs!" She sounded close to hysteria.

"Use Incendio," whispered Theodore. "Fire keeps Inferi away."

"Incendio in here?" said Blaise. "Nott, are you crazy? It'll burn the house down!"

There was a creak, and then a chilling, low moan. Harry had heard something like it before, in the cave with Dumbledore, just before the Inferi there had attacked.

"Use it! We don't have a choice," snarled Theodore. "Malfoy, I'm going to stop this message now and send your Patronus back. HURRY, Malfoy. Get us out of here!"

The sound from Draco's Patronus started to fade. But before it faded entirely, the quartet heard Blaise say, "Mrs Malfoy?" and Pansy gave a blood-curdling scream.

"Malfoy! Your Mother's here and she's dead! She's an Infernus!"

oOoOoOo

**_Author's Notes:_** _Review this fanfic, or I'll set the Inferi on you! ;-)_

_Yeah, I'll have to bump the rating on this one. Zombie Narcissa might upset the kiddies. Does anyone know what happens when you raise the rating? Does it mean some people signed up for alerts won't get them?_

_To see a pure, white ferret doing the weasel war dance around somebody's underwear (if that's your sort of thing) search for 'Spazzy Spike' on YouTube._

_**Replies to reviews: **_

_miadragonlover: Thanks! I'd love to say whose side I think Snape is on, but I can't because it will give the ending of The Bodyguard away. fei-yen: Thanks! Hedwig is deeply offended that Harry thought Snape would be too much for her! ;-) Cheezewizz: Thank you very much for reading! ;-) hyperRme: I agree, Hedwig's gorgeous! Ron and Harry have made up, but Ron is still a bit shocked his friends' relationship. Darned anti-slasher! ;-) Netty: Thanks! Harry is certainly not very accepting about Snape. anettemargarete: Thanks. How is it unusual? Where does it say in the guidelines that author notes aren't allowed? I've read the guidelines and it seems only works that are nothing but Author Notes are illegal. The Bodyguard isn't like that. Lady Jaelyn DuGrey Scott: Thank you very much! ;-) DestinyDragon: Glad you liked the Virginity Trap. Draco will be messing up even more of Voldemort's spells in the future. Queen Vampiress: Thank you for that! Glad it cheered you up. More coming soon. Stefania Mo: Bwahahahaha indeed! ;-) miME-chan: I'm happy you've had your slash fix! ;-) Lady Ichabod: Hermione's not one for pranks or humiliating others. That's what makes her such a faithful friend, though she can be a bit of a prig. Harry really does screech too much! Snape sets him off every time. ;-) RoseLavenderRose: I'm not very familiar with FF ratings. A zombie mother is probably a good reason to raise the rating in the next chapter. Lisa: Thanks! In Harry's defense, he went off the deep end about Hedwig because it hit his two flashpoints - something he loved was in danger, and Snape was involved. Shame Ness2: Thanks! Heh, all the Snape friends are coming out of the woodwork. ;-) I think Snape...ummm, I can't say. Let's just say I've got lots of ideas about old Snapey's loyalties and I'm putting them all into this story. The twins may have more spells to buy off Draco soon. ElvenTwinLover: Thank you! ;-) NinjaoftheDarkness: Oh my God, I have to wash my brain out now you've got me thinking about what sort of toys Moody keeps in his trunk. A blow up Hippogriff for sure! Gaaah! Nooo! Bad image! ;-) Fairee: There's a warning on top of each page. Crowley Black: Snape is so much fun to hate! ;-) Yellowwolf: Thanks! We'll be seeing more about Snape. GreenEyedCatDragon: Draco was responding to peer group pressure when he put the Virginity Trap there. But it worked out all right for him. Katharina-B: Yes, I think Ron will only walk into bedrooms now, after knocking and with his hands in front of his eyes. ;-) Snape has answered, but do you trust him? ;-) Avalene: Thanks! Yes, Harry truly hates Snape, not the least because he saw him kill Dumbledore. You've made some interesting comments about Snape there. ;-) Darkna: I think Harry's used to not being believed by now. No one ever believes him! He's got the scars to prove it. Moody is the new Head of the Order. Merlin, help them! ;-) That's why Moody got the attic bedroom, the best in the house, even though it was difficult for him to walk up there. Does Moody know about Horcruxes? That will become clear in the next chapter. ;-) The only living people who know the full words of the prophecy are the Trio. This will have side effects later on. ;-) Harry doesn't need permission to hunt Horcruxes. He's the Chosen One so the Order just let him do what he wants. He's not the Head of the Order, though. He's too young and inexperienced. Black Padfoot: Seamless, eh? Oh thanks! (Hugs) Glad you liked the Trap. You liked the anger? The Earth Mystic: Moody took the Virginity Trap down - under strict instructions from the sabre-toothed tiger otherwise known as Mrs Weasley. She didn't want her babies trapped again. ;-) Airlady: Thanks! I think the hats that make virgins appear to be non-virgins will sell even more than the Virginity Trap. Ron is still shocked, but fun to tease! ;-) ProperT: What a great review! Thank you so much! Glad you liked Moody's response to the Trap. I've updated a bit quicker this time. Riku-Rocks: Thanks. I'm happy you like it and I'm flattered! This fanfic will be changing moods again - into horror, next chapter. Potter's Wifey: Thank you! It would be hard to make Harry more overly dramatic than Canon!Harry. (From OofP. Canon!Harry: Oh woe! I must run away for I am possessed by Voldemort. Sob! Nobody understands how I feel! Canon!Ginny: I do! Voldemort possessed me a few years ago. Canon!Harry: Oh yeah. I remember now. I feel better.) Canon!Harry is a total drama queen! Bwahahahaha! Love him! ;-) Night Air: Thanks, will do! wizli: Heh! Great review! ;-) You've noted the relationship dynamics in the fic very well. And God bless the Gryffindor queen! ;-) Kit turned Mighty: Thanks heaps! ;-) The Vow certainly came back into play in this chapter and it will become increasingly important. Harry has a lot to learn. Oooh, I'd love to say something about Snape. (Mustn't! Mustn't! ;-) Lily Elizabeth Snape: Thanks! ;-) What are those three genre again? Shagging, blowjobs and...umm...more shagging? ;-) I've just proved you can't possibly be a bigger dork than I am! ;-) Ari Maxwell: I reckon the twins must be virgins. They're not terribly attractive. I mean, how many fanfics show them getting laid? (Though I'm not counting them getting laid with each other. Ewww! Eye bleach time at the very thought! ;-) Thanks for the review! ;-) HecateDeMort: A Virginity Trap at the Ministry would catch Umbridge for sure._


	20. The Shrieking Shack

_**Author's Note**: Walking dead bodies are nasty, so I've bumped up the rating._

oOoOoOo

**The Bodyguard**

**Chapter 20: The Shrieking Shack**

The Shrieking Shack was well alight by the time Harry and his friends arrived. Flames leaped from the boarded up windows. Smoke billowed into the cloudy, midday sky. A beam fell and showers of sparks spiralled upwards. The wind wafted the smell of burning meat and Harry gagged. Were they too late to save the Slytherins?

The Order Apparated noisily around the Shack.

Moody appeared next to Harry, and looked up at the blaze with both eyes. "The Shack is going to collapse!"

"There are five people trapped in there!" cried Harry, lunging frantically at the burning ruin. Moody grabbed his arm, and Harry struggled. "Let me go, Moody! I'll be okay. I'm using a Flame-Freezing Charm."

"It won't help you if the roof falls in on your head-" Moody began, but then he stopped and stared. Harry felt the hand clutching his arm tighten painfully. He looked in the same direction as Moody, and gasped.

Not all the Inferi had entered the Shrieking Shack chasing Draco's Patronus. Stiff-legged, scarecrow-like figures were scattered over the hillside. All were stumbling towards the nearest living person. Threads and bursts of flame flickered into life, as the Order defended themselves against the deathly horde.

A ghastly shape, wearing the rags of what had once been a business suit, limped towards the knot of Order members containing Harry. The Infernus lifted its head, and Harry saw its dead, glazed eyes. There were gaping wounds on its face, but no blood came from them.

Lupin sent out a slender thread of flame from his wand, and the Infernus scrambled away. Then the werewolf stared anxiously at the Shrieking Shack. "I can't see the Slytherins," he said, in his hoarse voice.

"Could anyone still be alive in there?" gasped Hermione and Ron wrapped an arm around her.

Harry stared into the flames, but he gave a start when he heard a familiar, drawling voice behind him.

"My friends are on the top floor!"

Harry turned with difficulty. Moody was still hanging onto his arm. "Draco, what are you doing here? I thought I told you to stay in the Headquarters!"

"That was stupid, Harry," said Draco defiantly. "I had to come. They're MY friends. Crabbe and Goyle won't listen to you."

"I don't want you here. What if you see your mother?"

"This is MY decision, Harry. I've already lost Mother. I don't want to lose anyone else!" Draco pointed to a top floor window, from which white steam poured. "My friends are up there. They're using Aguamenti against the fire."

"Then they're wasting their time. Aguamenti won't put out a fire this big," growled Moody. "Draco, can your friends Apparate?"

"Only Nott can. I know he won't leave the others to die, " said Draco. The glow from the fire lent a weird pink tinge to his pale face and hair.

Moody's real eye narrowed. "Then we Side-Along them out of there. Any volunteers? Yes, Harry, I know YOU want to help..."

oOoOoOo

Inside the Shrieking Shack, it was burning hot. Even with his Flame-freezing Charm, Harry could feel his clothes scorching, and the clouds of smoke and steam were so thick that he could barely see past the rippling edge of his Bubble Head Charm. He crouched down to see better. The floorboards creaked, and he guessed that their supports were nearly burned through. He couldn't see the Slytherins, but he could see evidence that they had lived in the Shack for some time. There were squashy, purple sleeping bags on the floor, a pile of Daily Prophets, and a bag of apples leaning up against the wall. But everything was sodden and steaming.

"Aguamenti!" came a shout from up ahead, and a burst of steam rose up. Harry could hear coughing and he followed the sound. Five shapes appeared, huddled together in the corner, with a sixth, pale shape bending over them. Harry stared. The sixth shape was Draco.

"The Order's here to rescue you," Draco was saying. He reached out an arm, and pulled a weedy, rabbity-looking boy to his feet. Harry had seen the boy around Hogwarts and realised that it must be Theodore Nott.

Theodore couldn't speak. He was coughing and his eyes were red and streaming from the smoke. Tonks appeared through the smoke, took Theodore's arm and, with a crack, they both vanished.

"Pansy," said Harry, leaning over and holding out his hand. The Slytherin girl looked at him distrustfully, then took his hand. Her face was scrunched up and streaked with soot, making her look more like a pug than ever. She tried to speak but could only make a rasping noise. Harry concentrated on the outside of the Shack. With a sensation like pushing through a tight, rubber tube, he Disapparated, dragging Pansy with him. Wordlessly, he deposited her in front of Hermione and Ron, and reappeared in the Shack.

He was just in time to see Moody, pulling Blaise to his feet, then with a crack, both Disapparated. Harry glimpsed, out of the corner of his eye, a pale figure behind him. He assumed that it was Draco, but then, through the smoke, he saw Draco in front of him, his face twisted into a rictus of horror. Harry turned quickly.

With a dragging gait that somehow carried her very fast, the Inferius of Narcissa Malfoy appeared out of the smoke. Her rich, embroidered green robes were torn and on fire, and her once beautiful face was slack and grey. With an unholy strength she hadn't possessed in life, she grabbed Harry and bore him backwards until he hit the creaking wall. He struggled, and she snapped at him with her rotting mouth. Her hands scrabbled at his throat. She was so close he couldn't use his wand.

"Incendio!" came a shout, and a gout of flame shot past Harry's head. Narcissa's mouth gaped so widely in mindless terror, that he caught a glimpse of her blackened tongue. She stumbled backwards and turned around to face her attacker. Harry could see the charred, blonde hair streaming down her back as she raised her arms and charged murderously...

...at her son.

But Draco was ready. There was a stony, determined look on his face, and he was almost unrecognisable as the cowardly, little boy he had been at Hogwarts. He shouted a spell that Harry couldn't quite make out above the roaring of the flames, and Narcissa Malfoy disappeared, Transfigured into a shining, silver ring. Draco took the ring and slipped it on his finger, his expression unreadable.

Harry stared at him, panting.

Crabbe and Goyle coughed and moaned.

With a couple of ear-splitting cracks, Tonks and Moody reappeared. Crabbe and Goyle got to their feet with their backs pressed to the wall, cringing in the presence of the Order, and staring at Draco as if waiting for his command. Harry thought they looked more like trained gorillas than ever. They were certainly gorilla-sized.

"Do what the Order say. Go with them!" shouted Draco to Crabbe and Goyle. He twisted the new ring on his finger.

Moody grabbed Goyle's arm. "Merlin! You're a big lump. How is anyone supposed to Side-Along with you?" he growled.

Tonks stared at Crabbe. She was more polite than Moody, but her conclusion was the same. "I can't take him," she stated. "He's too heavy."

The floor lurched and everyone staggered. Harry made an instant decision. "We'll have to run them out of here," he shouted, hitting first Crabbe, then Goyle with Flame-Freezing Charms, and Bubble Head Charms. He could hear Moody arguing, but couldn't quite make out the words.

"It's no good, Moody. The floor's about to go and we can't Disapparate with Crabbe and Goyle. We'll have to run, while the stairs are still there. I'll take Goyle, Tonks can take Crabbe. You and Draco Disapparate," he ordered. But when he turned around, it was Draco who had taken Crabbe's arm. A bolt of fear ran through Harry's stomach. The thought of Draco risking his life was absolutely terrifying. "Let Tonks take him, Draco. She's had more training."

"Don't be stupid, Harry. Crabbe won't go with her."

The floor shifted again and Harry realised there wasn't enough time to argue. "Follow me, Draco. If a beam falls, hit it with Impedimenta or a Shield Charm!" he said. He pulled on Goyle's arm, and Goyle resisted. It was like dragging a boulder.

"Goyle, go with Harry," ordered Draco.

Goyle stared at stupidly at Draco, then nodded. Harry pulled on Goyle's arm and this time he followed.

They ran through the smoke, towards the stairs. It wasn't the first time Harry had run through the Shrieking Shack. He could remember chasing Ron and Sirius Black, so he vaguely knew the layout, but he'd never run for the front door before. The stairs creaked beneath his feet, and even louder, beneath Goyle's feet. Goyle didn't say a word. He clutched painfully at Harry's upper arm, with a hand like a hairy ham. The flames grew fiercer, the further down the stairs they ran. Harry waited, in a tickling inferno, for Draco and Crabbe to catch up.

There was a rumble from above, as the ceiling fell. Harry raised his wand. "Protego!" he shouted. The falling wood shattered and flaming pieces rained harmlessly around them. Goyle stared, a gormless and astonished look on his face. "This way!" Harry yelled, and led the way down to the next floor and then the next.

The ground floor was full of hideous, smouldering, human shapes, but to Harry's vast relief, none of them were moving. Harry and Goyle picked their way through the fallen Inferi, followed closely by Draco and Crabbe. The front door and windows were all smashed and splintered from when the Inferi had broken in. There was a thunderous crashing noise from above and the floor shook.

Harry could barely make out Draco's face through the smoke, but he heard him shout. "The Shrieking Shack is collapsing!"

"Go! Take Crabbe and Goyle. Get out! I'll cover you!" Harry shouted. He gave Goyle a push, and watched the three Slytherins run past him, towards the splintered gap where the front door had been. The ceiling split open above their heads, and Harry saw that the collapsing floor above was nothing but fire. He ran for the door himself, shooting an Impedimenta spell above his head, and feeling it catch and throw aside a pile of burning floorboards. He felt a rush of hot air and dodged a falling roof tile. Then he was through the door. There was a general crashing, thundering roar behind him, and the Shrieking Shack collapsed like a burning house of cards. But no living people were inside...

Draco steered Crabbe and Goyle towards the other Slytherins on the hillside, and Harry followed, catching a glimpse of Draco's soot-stained face, as he checked over his shoulder to see if Harry was all right.

Harry nodded grimly at his boyfriend. He could feel sweat cutting trails through the soot on his face and he removed the protective spells from himself and Crabbe and Goyle.

Theodore, Pansy and Blaise were sitting on the hillside, still coughing. Order members surrounded them and Tonks had her wand out and was treating their injuries. Ron and Hermione waved excitedly at Harry from the middle of the group, and he waved back.

"How are you all?" Draco crouched down and asked his friends. Crabbe and Goyle collapsed on the ground beside him, gasping like fish out of water.

"Malfoy's mother ... made into ring," Goyle told the other Slytherins, who peered at Goyle, then at the ring on Draco's hand.

"Malfoy, you Transfigured your mother?" croaked Theodore. The smoke, and perhaps concern, had altered his voice.

"I did," said Draco quietly. Crabbe and Goyle were nodding.

"Malfoy, we're so sorry," rasped Blaise.

Draco gave a stiff shrug.

"In answer to your question, the lady with the pink hair here says we're all suffering from smoke inhalation, but she can fix it," said Theodore. He lifted his chin to let Tonks treat him, and he stared at Draco with concern. Tonks lifted her wand away and moved to the other Slytherins. "The important question is - how are YOU, Malfoy?" asked Theodore, in a much healthier voice.

"I'm-" Draco couldn't complete his sentence. He twisted the new ring on his finger and was obviously fighting the urge to break down.

Harry crouched down beside Draco, seeing the faces of the Slytherins light up with sympathy for their white-blond leader. Pansy patted Draco on the shoulder. "There, there. We're here! We're so sorry!"

Draco lost the battle against his grief. His face crumpled and he let out a sob that shook his whole frame. He bowed his head.

"Oh, man," said Blaise. For once, he wasn't looking haughty. He rubbed Draco's back. "I haven't seen you cry since you were five!"

"I couldn't save her. My own mother and I couldn't save her," sobbed Draco. Tears streamed down his soot-streaked face. He held up the ring, adding bitterly. "This was the one thing I could do for her."

Harry put a comforting arm around Draco's shoulders, pulled him close and looked at the silver ring. "Draco, it's beautiful," he said. The ring was decorated with flowers resembling small daffodils made of white diamonds, with emerald leaves. Only a very powerful wizard could have Transfigured such a ring, Harry knew.

"The flowers are narcissus," said Draco, in response to Harry's unspoken question. "Mother was named after them. Harry, I can't believe she's gone." He put both hands over his face and wept. Harry pulled him into his arms and rocked him, aware of the way the Slytherins' jaws dropped open when they saw the two school rivals embracing. But Harry didn't care what they thought.

Harry let Draco cry out his grief against his shoulder, and watched the Shrieking Shack burn. Soon, it was little more than a charred shell against the cloudy, afternoon sky.

Lupin watched the conflagration with a contemplative look on his face and Harry wondered how he felt about seeing his old refuge burn.

There were flashes of fire around the hillside, as the Order destroyed the last of the Inferi.

"Thanks for saving us," said Theodore quietly. The other Slytherins nodded.

"You're welcome," said Harry. He gave Draco a squeeze.

"So, you and Malfoy are together now?" Theodore asked.

Harry nodded. Draco was no longer sobbing, but his whole body trembled. Harry stroked his back and nuzzled his ear tenderly.

"Wow! I never thought you two would ever make up," said Pansy. She looked a little jealous that Draco was crying on Harry's shoulder instead of hers and tried to get Draco's attention. "I like what you're wearing, Malfoy. Aren't they Muggle clothes? Genies?"

"Jeans," corrected Harry. Draco sniffled.

"I like them, Malfoy. Nice and tight around your arse!" said Blaise bracingly. He sounded blatantly gay, and Harry wondered why he hadn't noticed Blaise's sexual preference at Hogwarts; he put it down to the way he usually paid Slytherins as little attention as possible.

Theodore chuckled. "I never thought I'd hear you say that about Muggle clothes, Zabini."

"Ring in the changes, Nott. We don't have to be seen to be hating Muggles anymore. Not now that we're with the Order of the Phoenix. I always thought tight jeans were sexy on a guy," said Blaise philosophically.

Harry felt a stab of jealousy. He didn't like the way Blaise was looking at his boyfriend.

Suddenly, Draco tensed and cried out in agony. He pulled away from Harry, and yanked his left sleeve down. The hideous Dark Mark on his left forearm had burned black. "The Dark Lord is calling me," said Draco in horrified disbelief, clutching his arm.

"Don't go to him!" urged Ron. "He Who Must Not Be Named will murder you!" Hermione nodded.

A few stray tears ran down Draco's face, and he wiped them forcefully away. "The Dark Lord ordered Mother's death, and he STILL dares to call me to his side?" he wondered aloud, in a shaking voice. His grief and bewilderment were rapidly turning to rage.

"I expect it's the way Protean Charm in the Dark Mark works," said Hermione timidly. "V-Voldemort can only summon everyone at once."

The Slytherins flinched when Hermione said the name. But they nearly fell over when Draco clenched his fists and screamed:

"I'LL KILL VOLDEMORT!"

It was the first time Draco had spoken the hated name without choking, let alone screamed it to the skies.

"Don't say the name, Malfoy," groaned Blaise, holding his hands over his ears.

"How do you plan to kill him?" asked Harry seriously. He put his hands on Draco's shoulders and looked him in the face.

Draco was shaking and pale, but there was a ferocious determination in his pale eyes. "Voldemort wants to tell me where he is? Fine! I'll go there and use Avada Kedavra on him. He won't know what hit him."

"If you kill the Dark Lord, the Death Eaters with him will kill you, Malfoy," warned Theodore.

"I DON'T CARE!" shouted Draco and everyone winced. His eyes were wide and watery, and Harry thought that his grief must have temporarily unhinged him. "AT LEAST VOLDEMORT WON'T BE ABLE TO KILL AGAIN! HE WON'T MAKE ANYONE ELSE FEEL THE WAY I DO NOW! I HAVE TO KILL HIM!"

"Draco-" Harry began, but he was silenced when Draco grabbed his head in both hands and kissed him passionately.

"I love you, Harry. Goodbye!" said Draco. He glanced at his stunned Slytherin friends. "Love you too." He glanced back at Harry. "Look after my friends, for me," he ordered. Then he glanced at Ron and Hermione, who stood stricken and silent, and gave them a salute. "I'm glad I got a chance to know you both better. Take care of Harry for me!"

"Don't do this, Draco," said Hermione.

"Why not?" asked Draco, getting to his feet. "Shouldn't you be encouraging me? Don't you want Voldemort dead?" The Slytherins gasped and Draco tugged up his sleeve, exposing the Dark Mark. "When I touch my wand to the Mark, I'll instantly Disapparate to Voldemort's side. THEN I'LL KILL HIM!"

"He won't die!" cried Harry, standing up. He knew Draco was doomed if he tried to kill Voldemort. The very thought chilled Harry to the bone.

Draco wheeled around. "You don't think I've got the guts to kill Voldemort? You think it will be just like Dumbledore? That I won't be able to do it?" he shouted. His wand hovered just over the Dark Mark and Harry was terrified his boyfriend was about to vanish forever at any moment. "This will be different, Harry. I LIKED Dumbledore! I could hit Voldemort with Avada Kedavra with no trouble at all!"

Harry made a grab at Draco's wand and tried to wrestle it away. "I believe you, Draco! But I'm telling you that there's no point in even trying! You'll get yourself killed for nothing!"

"What are you talking about?" Draco shouted, trying to push his wand down to the Mark.

Harry wrestled Draco to the ground and pinned his wand arm. "Voldemort can't die!"

"You believe that maniac's boast?" Draco scoffed, fighting back.

"It's true! Avada Kedavra won't work on Voldemort now, any more than it worked on him last time, when I was a baby. He'll get a new body and come back again. Voldemort's immortal!" yelled Harry. He sensed Moody, Tonks and Lupin drawing close and surrounding them both. The Slytherins were being ushered away by the other Order members.

Draco fought on for a moment. Then Harry's words sunk in. His face filled with despair. "Then what's the point of anything? How can we fight him? What can be done to...?" Suddenly his eyes glittered. "The Order's NOT fighting Voldemort directly. They're looking for THINGS!" His eyes widened as realisation stuck. "Those THINGS you're looking for! They give Voldemort his immortality, don't they? That's why you're trying to track them down and destroy them, instead of facing Voldemort directly!"

Harry heard an indrawn breath from the Order members around him.

"Smart kid," growled Moody. Lupin and Tonks nodded.

Harry couldn't see the point of lying. "You're right, Draco," he said quietly.

"Let me help you!" cried Draco, struggling against Harry's grip. "What's the thing that Voldemort keeps at his side? The thing you haven't been able to get?"

"It's Nagini," said Moody. He was staring down at Draco with a thoughtful look in his one living eye.

"Voldemort's pet snake?" asked Draco. He stopped struggling as he considered the difficulties of capturing a magical, poisonous serpent the length of a house. After a pause he asked, "Do you need her dead or alive?"

"Oh, dead's better," growled Moody. "Just as long as we get ALL of her body."

"Stop encouraging him, Moody. It's suicide," snarled Harry.

Draco started to struggle again. "I can do this!" he shouted at the Order. "Get Harry off me and I'll get Nagini for you!"

"Very well," said Moody, and nodded at two of the largest Order members. They came forward.

"No, Draco!" shouted Harry. But strong hands were pulling him to his feet, and he watched helplessly as Draco stood up, gave him a trembling smile and lowered the tip of his wand towards the Dark Mark.

oOoOoOo

**_Author's Note: _**_Review or Draco gets it! Bwahahahahaha! ;-)_

**_Replies to Reviews:_**

_fourth-face-of-the-goddess: You know who had to get rid of Draco's Mum now. Poor Draco! I love the weasel war dance too. magicalwriter: Thanks! I'm writing more! sweetness123: LOL! ;-) Airlady: Thanks, glad you liked the Patroni. (So that's what the plural of Patronus is! ;-) Lily Elizabeth Snape: Hope there was a bit of nail biting fluffiness in this chapter! ;-) Oreo07: Heh, I love cliffhangers! Avalene: Thanks! ;-) Netty: Thanks. Draco really is a ferret person... hyperRme: You spelled Narcissa right. ;-) LuthorCorp: Thank you. I've heard theories about Dumbledore being alive, though Rowling confirms he is dead. But Dumbledore's Patronus was a phoenix. Surely there's no point in having a phoenix Patronus if you cannot rise from the dead? I had technical problems posting the last chapter because it was so long (FF kept eating the last paragraphs) so I'll be forced to keep my chapters a bit shorter from now on. Crowley Black: Thanks heaps! I wonder why Rowling didn't call them zombies? Why invent another word for them? Kit turned Mighty: LOL at the postscripts! Thanks for the review! ;-) Kittendragon: Thanks. HecateDeMort: Thank you! The Earth Mystic: There are so many ways to write zombies. I stuck with the 'no memory' zombie variety, but Rowling may yet prove this wrong. Draco doesn't need to hump Harry's leg in ferret form. He's doing quite well in human form! ;-) xoxSasukexox: Thanks! That's strange about the chapter being messed up. What did it look like? Potter's Wifey: Thank you! NinjaoftheDarkness: Yes, Moody's trunk. Don't go there! ;-) Bishou: Thanks! Hope the exams went OK. GreenEyedCatDragon: Now what's Potterish? When I think Potterish, I think heroic teen with a bad temper, and the social clues of a fruit fly, but that's just my opinion! ;-) miadragonlover: Cliffhangers are supposed to make you keep reading! Hope they work! ;-) Crystal Malfoy: You should see your wish come true! But the Slytherins don't even have to flirt much to get Harry jealous! More about the scar later. Yellowwolf: Awesome review, thank you! Hodemi: Draco's handling his trauma in a way that's traumatizing Harry. ;-( Stefania Mo: You write letters like Snape! Cool! ;-) Evie Glacier Tako: Thanks for the info about changing ratings. More about the Vow and Snape later! NATWEST: Thanks! Harry has a bit of a blind spot where Snape is concerned. Mention him and Harry instantly sees red. But can you blame Harry after what Snape has done? Katharina-B: Thank you. A very thoughtful review. I thought Hermione and Ron must talk about Harry and his temper behind his back like that. I can't say what the Vow does without giving too much away. But it will come out eventually. Draco did make a corporal Patronus faster than Harry, but he was years older than Harry was when he made his first Patronus. Plus he had a particularly happy and recent memory. (I bet you can guess what it was! ;-) Ron's Patronus is a Jack Russell dog. Rowling has said so in interviews. She also said that Veritaserum isn't a fool proof way of testing loyalty. A clever wizard could transfigure the liquid into something else before it reached their stomach, or charm their throat closed. mon-ami-runa: Thanks! Glad you love the cliffy! fei-yen: The Slytherins have survived. This time! Bwahahaha! ;-) Lisa: I feel the urge for another Bwahahahah! ;-) sklfahh: Harry did indeed feel very uncomfortable. Thanks! wizli: I'm groaning at the pun. Death Eater turned Brain Eater. Arrrh! ;-) Interesting comment about fighting fire with fire, dark wizard vs dark wizard. It would certainly comfort Harry! I've popped up the rating because of the zombies. musicalsilence: Thanks. Yes, Harry is VERY hardheaded when it comes to Snape. Emu Alive and Kicking: Spazzy Spike, the underpants weasel war dancer, is adorable. He makes me want to own a ferret. Riku-Rocks: Thanks! Glad you like the letters! GentleWaterSoul: Thanks! ProperT: Thanks! Hermione has her reasons for not discussing the Vow with Harry. Can you guess what they are? ;-) _


	21. The Snake

_**Author's Note:** Thank you to xoxSasukexox for beta reading._

oOoOoOo

**The Bodyguard**

**Chapter 21: The Snake**

With a crack, Draco Disapparated to Voldemort's side.

Pain tore through Harry's chest, as if his heart had Disapparated along with Draco. Yelling and hardly knowing what he was doing, Harry kicked out savagely, and broke the grip of the two brawny Order members holding him back. Then he sprinted to the spot where Draco had vanished. Groping in the air with his wand, he hunted for the traces of magic Draco's Disapparation had left behind. He found them, but they were fading fast; he only had seconds. With a final furious glare at Moody for letting Draco go, Harry followed the traces and Disapparated.

Crack! The burning shell of the Shrieking Shack blinked out of existence. Harry had the sensation of being squeezed and dragged. Then the world reappeared.

Dense fog chilled Harry's face. The heathery ground sloped steeply beneath his feet, as if he were standing on a mountainside. But Harry hardly had time to register his surroundings before he saw a Death Eater: black robed, white masked and only a few steps away. The sinister figure whirled around and Harry raised his wand.

But no attack came. "H-Harry?" said the Death Eater incredulously.

Harry sighed in relief, and let the tip of his wand drop. "Draco, where did you get those robes?" he asked, hurrying closer, the heather rustling beneath his feet. He saw Draco's eyes blink behind the mask.

"Transfigured them." Draco glanced around urgently. "Look, you shouldn't be here. If you're discovered-"

"They'd kill me," Harry finished. "But they'll kill you too. Everyone knows you rescued me." He pulled out his invisibility cloak. "Let's stay under this," he said, draping the cloak over both of them. He was about to say more, but there was a cracking noise close by. Harry stopped speaking and raised a finger to his lips.

A small, balding man with a silver hand - unmistakeably Peter Pettigrew - appeared in the fog, hurrying and muttering to himself. Death Eater robes and mask appeared and slipped down over his body, as he scurried out of sight.

Harry found that he was crouched down under the cloak, with one arm around Draco's shoulders.

"Go home, Harry. This is too dangerous," whispered Draco fiercely.

"No, YOU go home, Draco. That's an order."

Draco pulled off his mask, and gave Harry a determined look. Though he quivered, he did not grab at his throat, the way he usually did when defying the Vow.

Harry sighed in frustration. "So orders don't work on you any more?" He wondered what was going on. Just when the Vow would have helped him save Draco, it appeared to have vanished. Harry silently cursed Umbridge. Did she ever help anyone? Even by accident?

"I can't feel the Vow," whispered Draco. "All I feel is..." His voice trailed off, and then he whispered plaintively. "Please go back, Harry. I couldn't stand it if-"

"I'm staying."

Draco bit his lip and looked at the ground for a moment. Then, tentatively, he reached up and touched the fabric of the invisibility cloak. "What I wouldn't have given for one of these in school," he said. His voice was light, but Harry could feel him trembling.

"It's not a perfect disguise," Harry warned. "We can still be heard, our footprints can be seen and Voldemort can see through the cloak."

Draco glanced at Harry in alarm, and then he peered around, as if expecting Voldemort to appear through the fog. But there was no one in sight, though a muttering crowd could be heard, a short distance away.

"Nagini will probably be able to sense us too, and everything she senses, Voldemort will know. If we get spotted..." Harry paused. It wasn't a case of if they got spotted, but when. "Can you please Transfigure a robe and mask for me, so we can hide among the Death Eaters?"

"No point," said Draco quietly. "Each Death Eater has their own spot to stand in around Voldemort. An impostor will stand out."

Harry remembered the way the Death Eaters had lined up in the graveyard after Voldemort's return and frowned.

"I only bothered with the robe and the mask because I didn't have an invisibility cloak," said Draco.

"Then if we're seen, stay under the cloak let me handle Voldemort. Please Draco!" Harry ordered.

Draco made a soft sound of protest and Harry added. "Remember my wand? I've fought him before, Draco. Let me do it again. Just stay under the cloak, get Nagini and get back to the Headquarters where it's safe. I'll meet you inside."

"I can't get into the Headquarters, Harry. I'm not the secret keeper."

"Then wait until I get back and I'll let you in. I'll give you as much time as I can," said Harry. He hesitated and spoke his fears aloud. "How can we catch Nagini? She's the size of a house and poisonous to boot!"

"I've got a plan," boasted Draco and Harry stared at him uncertainly. Was he showing more confidence than he felt? It was difficult to tell.

"Death Eaters!" came a shout. The muttering rose to a crescendo.

"It's starting," whispered Harry.

"Let's go around the crowd and creep up behind Voldemort," said Draco. "He keeps Nagini by his side, and if he has his back to us, he might not see us."

It seemed like a good idea. Hunched over, for the cloak wasn't long enough to cover them both when they stood up, they made their way around the voices.

Soon Harry heard the crackle of a bonfire up ahead. The fire lit up the fog with an eerie, flickering red glow. There was a cracking sound behind Harry as another Death Eater Apparated but it seemed that Harry and Draco were some of the last to appear. A crowd of masked figures stood in their assigned places and spoke in low voices. Peter Pettigrew cringed by the fire. But he was overshadowed by a tall, thin, menacing figure with long, spidery fingers. Harry ducked down further and pulled Draco with him. The tall figure could only be Voldemort, and Harry heard the Death Eaters fall silent, as the horribly familiar, high-pitched, pitiless voice started exhorting them. But Harry paid little attention to what Voldemort was saying. He was too busy trying to keep out of sight.

"Where's Nagini?" whispered Draco. They had walked around the outskirts of the crowd, far enough that Voldemort had his back to them. Draco was shivering with terror.

Harry did not feel much braver himself. He was about to reply when he heard the sound of heather being crushed behind them. Draco heard it too. They turned quickly and froze.

They saw two burning red eyes, close to the ground, staring balefully at them despite the invisibility cloak, and a long, scaly body, extending out of sight through the undergrowth. Nagini reared up, higher than their heads and ready to strike. She opened her mouth, exposing long, curved fangs and hissed threateningly. A drop of poison fell from one of her fangs, onto Harry's shoe, and fizzed.

Overwhelmed, Harry stepped backwards and raised his wand, wracking his brain for a spell that could work against such a monster. How he wished he had Gryffindor's sword! But then, a sharp pain lanced through his scar and he gasped.

"Intruders!" came a high-pitched shout.

Harry spun around. Voldemort was silhouetted against the flames, and peering through the fog. Nagini had given them away.

There wasn't a moment to lose. Occlumens, thought Harry, letting the peace of his memory of Dumbledore enter his mind. Then he boldly stepped out from under the invisibility cloak, leaving Draco hidden underneath, and raised his wand.

The Death Eaters cried out in shock, as he appeared in their sight.

"Stupid, even for you Harry. Did you really think you'd hide from me? I, who can see through any contrivance?" Voldemort sneered. His red eyes widened. "Death Eaters-" he began.

Knowing full well that Voldemort would make his Death Eaters perform his dirty work for him, Harry did not wait. "Expelliarmus!" he thought and pointed his wand at Voldemort's.

Voldemort didn't have time to do anything but raise a shield spell. The jets of light from their wands met in midair and Harry, once again, felt his wand vibrating and saw a narrow beam of golden light connect his wand to Voldemort's.

Priori Incantatem.

Harry felt his feet lift off the ground and heard Voldemort yelling in dismay as the beam of light split, arching and criss-crossing into a golden cage that encased them both. Harry could hear the Death Eaters yelling in alarm outside the cage and spared them a glance. Every white-masked head was looking upwards. Get Nagini, this is your chance, Draco! Harry thought.

The Death Eaters below were begging for instructions. "No! Do nothing," shouted Voldemort. Beads of light slid along the beam joining the two wands, and Harry saw Voldemort concentrating, sending the beads back towards Harry. But then the concentration on Voldemort's face turned to absolute horror. "Nagini!" he screamed and Harry realised Draco was doing something to the snake, though what and how, Harry couldn't guess. He looked down, but he could see neither Draco, nor Nagini anywhere. I have to distract Voldemort before he sends his Death Eaters after Draco, Harry thought. He concentrated hard, sending the beads of light sliding back towards Voldemort's wand.

It wasn't enough. "Death Eaters, there is another-" Voldemort began.

But the air was rent with cracking noises, as if someone had let off a truckload of fireworks. Harry looked down, and saw, through the fog, what seemed like the entire Order Apparating. Harry guessed they had regrouped at the Shrieking Shack, and followed his Disapparation, the same way he had followed Draco's. He could see Tonks's pink hair, and Kingsley's shiny, bald head among the crowd.

The Order attacked immediately, and scene below was a pandemonium. There were screams and yells, and the sizzle of spells flying through the air. Harry saw some of the Death Eaters fall. Then the remaining Death Eaters fired spells back and the battle was joined in earnest.

Gripping his wand with both hands, Harry could only hope that Draco wouldn't be caught in the battle. There was nothing he could do to save him, at that moment, except fight Voldemort. Harry let the phoenix song of Fawkes fill his head and concentrated hard.

The beads of light slid towards Voldemort's wand, and the first one touched. A smoky Muggle woman Harry didn't recognise flew out of the tip. "Who? What?" she exclaimed. She looked at Voldemort. "You killed me, you bastard! I've got two children!" she screamed. Voldemort's wand shrieked and a ghostly man came out of his wand, then another woman. Their shadowy shapes floated around Voldemort's head, cursing at him and striking at him, making Voldemort scream and flinch, as though he could feel their insubstantial hands.

Harry's wand was burning hot, and shaking as though it was about to burst. Please, he thought, let me see my parents again. But Voldemort had clearly been on a Muggle murdering spree in the last few years. One unfamiliar Muggle after another burst from his wand. Harry wondered if his own wand would shake itself apart before his parents appeared. He looked down. It was chaos below. Death Eaters and Order members were battling fiercely, but it looked like the Order had the upper hand. Even as Harry watched, another masked Death Eater fell.

Harry held on for as long as he could but finally, his wand grew so hot that he could see smoke rising from the tip. He couldn't wait any longer for his parents, and he couldn't give Draco any more time. He lifted his wand - the golden beam broke - and he started falling. But even as he fell, he Disapparated and the foggy mountainside blinked out of sight.

Harry's feet hit concrete. He was outside the dilapidated Muggle warehouse that served as the Order's Headquarters. After the screams and explosions of the mountainside, the sudden quiet was like a thunderclap. Harry glanced around frantically for Draco, but he was alone on the street, so he waited, trembling from the adrenaline still flowing through his body.

Should I go back and look for Draco? Harry thought. But then, if Draco returns, he'll be vulnerable until someone lets him in and the Order's not here. Unable to decide what to do, Harry paced by the door, staying alert for any sign of magic.

The Order had chosen a lonely, abandoned warehouse to avoid Muggles. It had never seemed lonelier. Far away, Harry could hear every day Muggle noises, like the rumble of the rush-hour traffic, cars honking, and loud conversations. Somewhere out there, millions of Muggles were living normal lives, without a single thought about magic, missing lovers or insane tyrants. A dog barked down the street, and Harry spun around and stared hopefully, but saw nothing.

Did Draco realise he had to come straight back to the Headquarters? Harry tried to remember what they'd talked about on the mountainside, but everything had been so rushed and desperate that he couldn't remember. He resumed pacing. In the distance, came the sound of an ambulance siren. It made Harry think of death and dying, and his blood ran cold. Time ticked on and his mind was rapidly filling up with scenarios, each worse than the last. Draco: bitten and poisoned by Nagini, shot down in the battle, lying dead on the mountainside, the blood soaking his white-blond hair and his grey eyes, that had looked at Harry with so much love that morning, open, fixed and dead. Fear seized Harry's heart and squeezed hard. His eyes watered, and he wiped them on his sleeve.

He had nearly made up his mind to go back and look for Draco, when there was a loud crack of Apparition and he spun around, ready to give Draco a piece of his mind for taking so long. But it wasn't Draco.

It was Voldemort, and he had never looked more terrifying. His skin was as white as salt, his slitted nostrils flared, his teeth were bared, and he glared insanely at Harry through raging, red eyes, with unnatural, vertical pupils. This time, Voldemort didn't even try to use his wand. He charged at Harry and punched him to the ground. Pain exploded in Harry's head and magnified, when Voldemort kicked him in the stomach.

Harry lay on the ground, winded and gasping for breath. If he'd had time to think about it, he would have laughed at Voldemort, the killer of Muggles, being forced to attack like a Muggle himself because he didn't dare use his wand because of Priori Incantatem. But Harry didn't have time to think, he was acting off pure instinct. He rolled to avoid another kick and raised his wand. But Voldemort kicked out again, and Harry's wand skittered away into the gutter. It rolled onto a drain grill and perched there, balanced and rocking over the gap. In an effort to get his wand before it fell, Harry stuck out a leg and Voldemort fell on top of him, but only winded him further. They wrestled, and Voldemort fought with the strength of madness. He was much stronger and pinned Harry down onto his back.

"Nagini!" Voldemort's face was contorted with rage and only a few centimetres from Harry's face. Harry could smell his foul breath.

"Where's your little pet?" sneered Harry, though Nagini was anything but little. He tried to bring his knee up between Voldemort's legs, but Voldemort shifted just in time to avoid it. He snarled, punched Harry in the face and Harry felt lights explode behind his eyes and struggled to remain conscious. Voldemort stood up.

His head still spinning from the blow, Harry made a dive for his wand, but Voldemort shot a spell at it. Harry grabbed at his wand - too late - and watched it fall into the drain. It tumbled over and over, and out of sight. Harry yanked desperately at the iron drain cover, but it was too heavy to lift. He stopped and turned slowly when he heard Voldemort chuckle humourlessly behind him.

Voldemort's eyes were so far into madness, that they almost looked sane. "Finally, I have you," he said. He took a step forward.

Harry pushed himself backwards and glanced around frantically. What could he do? He couldn't reach his wand. There was nothing to hide behind, and nowhere to run. "How's your Death Eaters?" he taunted. "Shouldn't you be getting back and saving them?"

"I care nothing for them," snarled Voldemort. "They were never faithful to me. Nagini was faithful. Crucio!"

Pain filled Harry's bones. His body was on fire. Harry was aware someone was screaming with agony, but didn't realise it was him. Then the pain stopped, and he fell, limp and gasping, to the ground.

"I've waited a long time for this," Voldemort said, his tone insanely reasonable. "How I would love to prolong it! Make it last days! But all things must end. Especially you, Harry." He took another step forward, grinning like a devil. His red eyes blazed. Harry stared at him, refusing to show fear, though he knew those red eyes would be the last things he ever saw. Voldemort lifted his wand and raised his foot to take another step. "Avada-"

There was a cracking noise from behind, and Voldemort's legs flew out from under him. He fell spectacularly, skidding face down over the concrete.

Harry stared. A familiar, white-blond figure threw back the invisibility cloak, and stood over Voldemort's fallen body.

"Trip jinxes RULE!" boasted Draco. "Accio Harry's wand!"

Harry's heart sang with relief. "I'm so glad to see you!" he yelled. There was a rattling sound in the drain, and Harry made a grab for his wand as it slipped through the grill. Stinking mud squelched in his hand when he grabbed the handle, but Harry didn't care. "Thank you!" he said. Both of them grinned at each other, and pointed their wands at Voldemort.

Voldemort was lifting himself off the ground. He groaned and raised his head, touching his long, spidery fingers to his face. They came away bloody. The fall had scratched his cheek. It wasn't serious, but Voldemort stared at the blood with incredulous horror, as though he were looking at the evidence of a mortal injury. His face twisted like a clown's, and his horror was almost comical. Before Harry could do anything, there was a cracking noise and Voldemort Disapparated.

Draco's spell struck the place Voldemort had been and smoke rose from the concrete. "What ... what happened? Why did he go?" Draco yelled in frustration, glancing around as if expecting Voldemort to reappear at any time. Draco was clutching his Death Eater robe under one arm and it was wriggling as though an animal fought to get out.

"You scratched his cheek when you tripped him. He was bleeding," said Harry. He ached all over from the Cruciatus Curse, but he barely noticed, such was his relief that Draco was still alive. Draco held out a hand, and helped Harry to his feet. Harry flung his arms around him and kissed him passionately.

"I don't understand," said Draco, when Harry eventually drew away. "It was only a small cut. Why didn't Voldemort fight back?" He didn't even flinch as he mentioned Voldemort's name, and Harry beamed at him.

"Voldemort can't stand physical injury. He considers a doorway that requires a few drops of blood to open, to be an impassable defence."

"But that's ridiculous!" Draco exclaimed, handing the invisibility cloak back. "He's a wizard. He can heal almost any injury in a flash."

"It doesn't make sense, I know," said Harry, tucking the cloak into his pocket. "But Voldemort's crazy. Mad as a hatter." He thought about those red eyes and suppressed a shudder.

"To think I once followed him," spat Draco. The Death Eater robe in his arms writhed.

Harry was about to ask Draco about the robe, when there was a cracking noise behind him, and a Death Eater appeared. His robe was torn, but his mask was still in place. "My Lord," he shouted, peering around. Harry raised his wand, but almost immediately, Lupin appeared, and struck the Death Eater with a spell. There were more cracking noises, and within seconds, there was a running battle between Death Eaters and the Order on the street.

Harry itched to join the battle, but his first responsibility was protecting Draco and the thing he carried. He flung an arm around Draco's shoulders. "We're going inside," he shouted, as spells sizzled through the air. He drew Draco through the wards, slammed the front door behind them both and leaned back on the door.

Both of them caught their breath. Harry looked at his boyfriend and remembered his terror of only a few minutes before. His relief turned to anger. "Why did you take so long to get back?" he asked, panting for breath.

"Standard anti-detection ruse. I Apparated several times, to confuse the Death Eaters," said Draco. A look of realization crossed his face. "You came straight back here, Harry?" He smirked. "No wonder Voldemort was able to follow you!"

Harry felt a bit embarrassed but tried to conceal it. "Did you get Nagini?" he asked.

Draco patted the balled up robe. "Got her. I shrank her with a spell and stamped on her. She's still moving though. I don't think she's dead." He emptied the robe on the ground. Nagini fell out. She was only the length of Draco's arm now, and her neck was crushed flat. But her body still coiled and writhed horribly, spreading blood over the floor.

"She's dead," said a voice. Hermione stood in the corridor, staring at Nagini with disgust. "Snakes wriggle like for a few minutes after they die. It's a reflex." She picked her way carefully around Nagini, and hugged first Harry, then Draco, around their necks. Her eyes were wet and her voice was a whimper. "I'm so glad you're both alive. We've all been worried sick!"

"I'm touched," said Draco softly. "Where-"

"Your Slytherin friends are in the kitchen with Ron, Draco. They're fine."

Draco nodded, and looked relieved.

"What's going on?" Hermione continued. "We all thought we could hear fighting outside, so I came to check-"

"The Death Eaters are fighting the Order," said Harry. "I'm going back outside to join them." He gave Draco a quick kiss.

"I'm coming with you-" Draco began, but Harry put both hands on his shoulders.

"Vow or no Vow, you're staying here with Nagini, or I'll wring your neck," said Harry, in a voice that brooked no dissention.

Draco looked a bit annoyed and bent down to roll the dead snake up in his robe again. "I'll let you get away with that, Harry. But only because..." He paused. "Listen..."

"I don't hear anything," said Hermione.

"Precisely," said Draco. "The battle's over. Magic battles never take long. They're probably picking up the wounded as we speak."

The thought of wounded Order members made Harry hurry for the door.

"If you see Moody, tell him I've got Nagini," Draco shouted after Harry.

"I'll be saying PLENTY to Moody, don't you worry about that," snapped Harry. "Moody egged you into that suicide mission." He slammed the door before Draco could reply.

oOoOoOo

Mad-Eye Moody was dragging a comatose Death Eater by the hair towards a pile of other comatose Death Eaters, outside the Headquarters, when Harry found him.

"You're all right, Harry. Good," Moody stated. It wasn't a question. The old Auror was clearly in a fiercely happy mood and his scarred face was knitted up in an ear-to-ear grin. He tossed the Death Eater on the pile and rubbed his hands on his robe, as if touching a Death Eater had contaminated them.

"YOU nearly got Draco killed!" shouted Harry.

"Did I now? Lupin saw him and said he was fine," said Moody. He waved his hand. Harry followed the gesture and gasped. Lupin was lying down on the street, with Tonks bending over him. He had a pained look on his face and there was something very wrong with his legs.

"Lupin got hit by a jinx," said Moody with cheerful disdain. "But Tonks says she can get his knees facing the right way again. So did you get Nagini?"

"Draco did," said Harry, fuming.

"Bloody good! I always thought that lad had potential," said Moody happily.

"Don't you DARE try anything like that on Draco again. You let him go to Voldemort, without a single thought to his personal safety," Harry snarled.

"Personal safety?" Moody laughed in derision, and Harry was exquisitely aware that he'd said those words to a heavily scarred man, who had only one leg and one eye. "Who cares about personal safety? You're so overly protective, anyone would think you were in love with the boy." Moody was looking around the street, and so he didn't see Harry's reaction. "The point is we've scored a massive blow against He Who Must Not Be Named, and it's all down to Draco. And you of course. And the Order. We ought to have a few drinks tonight in honour of that lad. He did lose his mother."

Moody limped carelessly away, leaving Harry frozen with shock.

"Love?" Harry asked himself.

oOoOoOo

_**Author's Note: **I thrive on reviews. Please feed me! ;-)_

**_Replies to Reviews: _**

_Meggplant: Great review, thank you! The Slytherins will have a few things to do later. Draco was ready to do anything to get to Voldemort at that moment, after what happened to his family. Thinking really didn't come into it. He wanted to be brave and ACT. Draco's more of a Gryffindor than he realises! ;-) Harry's a bit taken aback by what Moody told him, and murdering the Order's leader probably wouldn't be a good idea, however tempting. ;-) Glad you like the lemon scenes. More coming up. lil-bugga: Thanks! New chapter coming soon. IamNOTme: Hilarious? Thanks! I wonder if I should change the category from angst to comedy? (But more angst is coming up! Bwahahahaha!) Poor Draco was rash, but he was desperate to do something to hurt Voldemort. 5mOk3y: The warning owes a lot to Jane Austen. I wonder if she would have liked slash? ;-) Jane-Lily: Thanks! Now you know the answer to that one. xoxSasukexox: Thank you, my beta! ;-) Moonsign: Thanks for your lovely review. Glad you like the plot, and I hope I can keep it going up to scratch for you. omniscient01200: Thanks! Darkna: You're right, Harry was furious with Draco when they got back. But now Harry knows why... The transfiguration Draco used to turn his mother into a ring is not reversible. It's one of the special funeral transfigurations used by Pure Bloods. We'll hear of another one later. Harry's anger towards Snape? There'll be more about that later too. ;-) Lady Ichabod: Draco's just a LITTLE tougher than that! I'm sure Draco would beat the flobberworms - most of the time. ;-) Crowley Black: Thanks. Harry's more stunned than angry now. Avalene: Yes, it was horrible. Poor Draco! LISALANDMINE: Harry made him think of a plan. ;-) Kit turned Mighty: I did all the things you said in this chapter. I've got a few theories about Crabbe and Goyle that I'll be using in the next chapter. Blaise should get it from whom? ;-) magicalwriter: Thanks! Astrido: Heh, maybe I should rewrite the summary? Bishou: I'm glad your exams went well. Thanks for the review! NinjaoftheDarkness: Oh, no! Not the trunk! ;-) Netty: Heh, thanks! sweetness123: It's okay! Draco survived! Don't be angry! cjandre: Ah, the Vow! There'll be more about that in the next few chapters. Where did it go? Or is it still there? Emu Alive and Kicking: Thanks for the reviews. Does the Vow affect Harry? Interesting question! vampgoddesss: Heh, yes sometimes you just need the slash without plot! Thanks for being hooked. mysoulmate: Draco's always bad, but that's why we love him! ;-) Yellowwolf: Thanks! I love writing cliffhangers, don't glare like that! ;-) Minue: Thanks. Not even Hermione knows why Draco can disobey. But someone else will... InsanityamI: Draco's okay, don't kill me! ;-) Potter's Wifey: Thank you! Moody is rather careless about his own and other people's safety. And it shows! Black Padfoot: Thanks for the review, he's still alive. Missy Padfoot: Thanks! ProperT: Moody's careless like that. And ambitious. You certainly guessed what Harry would do. Your other guess was good too. LostSoul4: Thanks for your review. I haven't heard that song. More coming soon. The three people you mentioned will get their say. Stefania Mo: I'd be rather upset to have my actual dead mother around me in the form of a ring, though I suppose it's more practical than a grave. But imagine how heartbroken you'd if you lost the ring! Graves are hard to lose. ;-) Riku-Rocks: I agree. When he's doing something he truly believes in, Draco can be pretty formidable. Yes, Draco's defiance will be explained. Crystal Malfoy: Thanks! You nearly made Harry jealous then with all that talk about Draco. ;-) Nagini was more than loyal, she actually WAS Voldemort in snake form. She was a Horcrux. Heh, Voldemort loves himself! ;-) Airlady: Thank you! I see Draco as an intelligent character, when he's doing something that he can really get behind. (No slash pun intended!) HecateDeMort: Thank you! GaiazHeart: Draco's okay. For the present. Bwahahahaha! ;-) _


	22. The Wake: Shagging!

_**Author's Note:**__ Unrepentant fluff coming up. And, yep, more men shagging in this chapter. If you're not interested in plot, just scroll down. ;-) _

_Chapter soundtrack is One Crowded Hour by Augie March._

_Thank you to Isis and xoxSasukexox for beta reading._

oOoOoOo

**The Bodyguard**

**Chapter 22: The Wake**

"Wotcher, Harry." Tonks's voice was strained. "Can you please help me with Remus?" There was a long pause. "Harry?" 

Harry came back to himself with a start. He had no idea how long he'd been standing there, staring into space, his mind and heart a maelstrom of unanswered questions. Did he really love Draco? What did love feel like, anyway? He turned around, belatedly scanning the street for dangers, and feeling angry at his own carelessness. He'd let himself lose concentration, in the middle of a recent battlefield, with an injured friend nearby. "Coming, Tonks," he said guilty.

Lupin was struggling to sit up. His face had a wild, befuddled look and his knees flexed horribly in the wrong direction. Tonks was holding him down. Harry could see that she was so stressed she'd lost control of her Metamorphmagus powers; her ears were sticking out from her head like a house elf's and growing fast.

Tonks wasn't aware of her lengthening ears; her attention was fully on her husband. "Just lie BACK," she told him.

"What about the Quintapeds?" asked Lupin hoarsely. "They could come back at any time. I want to sit up so I can see."

"Lie down, love, for Merlin's sake!" said Tonks, and gave Harry a desperate look, that made him hurry over and crouch beside them both. "Please hold him down, Harry. He's been Confounded and I can't fix his knees if he won't keep still."

Nodding, Harry put his hands onto Lupin's shoulders and rested his weight on them.

The werewolf's face was covered in cold sweat and his eyes were strangely bright. He grasped Harry's wrists. "I didn't cover Quintapeds when I was teaching at Hogwarts. They're highly dangerous carnivorous beasts with five legs, and their favourite food is humans!" he gasped.

"Is that so? I'm surprised Hagrid hasn't adopted some," joked Harry, trying to distract him.

But in his current state, Lupin couldn't be distracted. "They'll eat Tonks, I know it!" he panicked, trying to sit up. Harry pushed him down and spoke soothingly.

"There are no Quintapeds here. You're both quite safe. Hold still," he added, through gritted teeth, as Lupin struggled. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Tonks running her wand over Lupin's prematurely greying head.

Her husband saw what she was doing. "You're healing me again?" he asked in confusion. Tonks was concentrating too hard to reply and Lupin looked up at Harry with miserable eyes. "Poor Tonks! She HATES healing," he confided loudly. "She's terrified of doing something clumsy. She swore she'd never heal another person, once she left Auror training. And then she met me." Harry could hear the self-hatred in his voice. "I get hurt all the time. I need healing after every full moon." Lupin gazed quizzically up at the sky. "Is it full moon now?"

"It's not. Please be quiet," said Harry uncomfortably. He was certain that Lupin would never have mentioned something as private as Tonks's dislike of healing, if he hadn't been Confounded.

If Tonks was embarrassed, she was concentrating too hard to show it.

"She deserves to love someone better than me," insisted Lupin. "Someone who can earn a living. Someone who isn't so dangerous." He stared up at Harry, his eyes shining. "I love her. I tried to leave her, Harry, so she could find someone better. Merlin knows I wanted to stay. More than anything. But I left for her sake."

"She didn't let you go," said Harry, feeling a pricking behind his eyes.

"No. Love's like that. You want to stay, no matter what, and it makes you do things that you don't want to do. Just to make the other person happy," said Lupin. He paused, and when he spoke again, he sounded more like himself. "There's something I don't understand. Quintapeds are only found on the Isle of Drear, in Scotland."

"There aren't any Quintapeds here?" asked Harry. Was it his imagination, or was the Confundus Charm losing strength?

"Not in London." Lupin's expression was becoming less confused by the second and he stopped struggling. "Harry," he said, realization dawning on his face.

"Yes?"

"I've been Confounded, haven't I?"

"You were, love, but I've just fixed it," said Tonks, lifting her wand from his head. She wiped her brow and took a deep, shaking breath. "How do you feel?"

"Better, thanks," said Lupin meekly. He glanced at Harry, and cleared his throat, looking embarrassed. "Did I say something I shouldn't have, just now?"

"I can't remember," mumbled Harry loyally, trying not to look at Tonks. But inside, he thought he would never forget what he had just heard, though he'd never tell a soul. It was one of the more romantic legends of the Order of the Phoenix, the love between Tonks and Lupin. He'd never properly understood why Lupin had broken up with Tonks, even though he loved her. Now he saw the painful concern Tonks and Lupin had for each other and understood what they were going through, because he felt the same way about Draco. It took his breath away. He couldn't wait to see the Slytherin again.

But Lupin was still unwell, and Harry made himself stay and help. He held Lupin's legs straight, and saw his friend's eyes widen as Tonks send a spell into his knees.

"Ah, that's better," said Lupin gratefully.

"Pain Killing Charm," said Tonks. She looked anxiously at her husband. "I'm going to turn your knees around now. I need you to keep still." Lupin looked into her eyes and nodded. Tonks looked back at him, her eyes suspiciously wet, and then she focused on her work.

Lupin's knees gave a spine-chilling creak and started to turn. Harry found that he couldn't bear to watch. He suddenly understood Tonks's horror of healing. Staring down the street, pretending to look out for Death Eaters, he heard her say: "Does it hurt?"

"No," said Lupin and his voice was calm. Harry looked back again cautiously. The creaking had stopped. Lupin's knees faced the right way and he bent them experimentally and grinned. Then, leaning on Harry, he got to his feet and tested them. "They're perfect, Tonks. You're perfect. Thank you," said Lupin, his voice full of love and affection.

"I did it!" exclaimed Tonks in a shaky voice. She took a deep breath to calm herself. "I should stop worrying so much about healing. I haven't forgotten something, or messed something up in ages!" She gave her husband a hug and he hugged her back eagerly.

Harry slipped back inside the Headquarters, smiling to himself, as they kissed. Like Lupin, he didn't have the heart to tell Tonks that her ears were now nearly a metre long.

oOoOoOo

Harry longed get Draco alone, throw his arms around him, and tell him that he loved him. So he was a little put out when he walked into the kitchen, and found his boyfriend sitting at the table with his Slytherin friends and flanked by the bulky figures of Crabbe and Goyle. There was no room to sit next to him. Harry had to settle for leaning on the table. Draco's pale head turned and his eyes sparkled when he saw Harry, but when he turned back to his friends, Harry felt a twinge of jealousy. Ron and Hermione were nearby. They were watching the intense discussion that was taking place between the Slytherins and Kingsley Shacklebolt. The tall, black Auror was looking at Theodore with a strangely closed off expression. 

"It sounds like the Order of the Phoenix have hidden many of the people that they told the Ministry they killed," the weedy Slytherin was saying thoughtfully. "It makes me wonder who is still alive, because I thought the Order had killed so many. Evan Rosier, Timothy Travers, Eileen Prince..."

"I heard Dumbledore killed Eileen Prince personally," piped up Pansy.

Harry blinked. Eileen Prince was Snape's mother. If Dumbledore had killed her, it would explain why Snape was capable of looking him in the eye and uttering the Killing Curse. But the thought of Dumbledore killing anybody was strange...

Kingsley looked at the Slytherins, his face unreadable. "I can't discuss that," he said flatly. "All I can say is that we will put all of you under a Fidelius Charm, to hide your location, but there's no guarantee that you'll be perfectly safe."

"How could that be possible? I thought Fidelius Charms were unbreakable?" asked Theodore.

"If the secret keeper dies, or proves unreliable, the Charm is broken," said Kingsley shortly. Harry thought of his parents and winced. The Auror went on, "However, the Fidelius Charm is still the best method of hiding people that we have. Also, as I've already mentioned, we will tell the Ministry that you all died in the fire at the Shrieking Shack. No one will think to look for you."

Harry saw Crabbe and Goyle glance nervously at Draco. "We died?" Goyle muttered, his expression gormless.

"No, you didn't, Goyle. How many times do I have explain this?" snapped Draco. "The Order just want the Death Eaters to think that you're dead."

"YOU'LL think that we're dead?" asked Crabbe, with a wide-eyed look of horror. Draco looked exasperated.

Harry had to thrust a fist against his mouth to stop himself from bursting out laughing. He could see Ron and Hermione getting up from the table. Ron gestured with his head towards the door, and Harry followed them out into the corridor and closed the door. The moment it was shut, and the Slytherins couldn't hear him, he laughed out loud. He was surprised when Ron and Hermione didn't follow suit.

"Draco's bodyguards haven't gotten any smarter! I wonder why Draco bothers with them?" said Harry, between gusts of laughter.

"Harry, you haven't seen the half of it," said Ron seriously. "I was watching Draco boss them around, while you were outside. Did you know they can't even do their shoelaces up without help?"

Harry laughed until he doubled over. But Hermione gave an irritated sniff and folded her arms and, to Harry's surprise, even Ron looked a bit embarrassed.

"They were so happy to see Draco again, it was pitiful," Ron went on. "He was brushing their hair, telling them what to eat, making sure they brushed their teeth. They loved every minute of it!" Ron shook his head in amazement. "I knew they were dumb, but I didn't know Draco went everywhere with them at Hogwarts because ... well, because they weren't right in the head."

Shock made Harry stop laughing at once. He clapped a hand to his mouth in horrified shame.

Hermione unfolded her arms.

"Draco told me just now that the Crabbes and the Goyles have the purest blood in Britain," said Ron. "They've married their first cousins for three generations." Ron paused to let that sink in. "Draco's father looked after their fathers too. Because they couldn't look after themselves."

"Oh," said Harry, behind his hand. He lowered it. "I didn't know." It had puzzled Harry for years; why Draco was almost never seen without Crabbe and Goyle at Hogwarts, even though they seemed to frustrate him and weren't terribly good as bodyguards. Now Harry knew: Crabbe and Goyle weren't Draco's bodyguards - he was theirs.

"Draco didn't want anyone to know what Crabbe and Goyle were like because he was afraid they'd be picked on," said Hermione, as if she'd guessed Harry's thoughts. "Apparently, V-Voldemort approved of the pure-blood marriages and no one dared to go against him. It's not Crabbe and Goyle's fault that they're the way they are."

Ron looked grim.

"I bet Voldemort approved," said Harry bitterly. "I bet he just LOVED getting another generation of servants that couldn't think for themselves, but wouldn't rot away like Inferi."

"Well, he won't get this generation," said Hermione fiercely. "The Order is going to hide them."

The kitchen door opened and Draco came out, closely followed by Crabbe and Goyle. "Stop following me," he was telling them bossily. "I want to speak to Harry alone." They stared at the Slytherin with sad, docile eyes but seemed reluctant to leave him.

"Why don't you come and sit with us?" said Hermione to Crabbe and Goyle, in a voice of forced cheerfulness. "We're going to sit in the kitchen and draw pictures!"

Crabbe and Goyle looked excited at this prospect, but they glanced at Draco as if asking for permission. "Go with them. I'll be back soon to see what you've drawn," Draco drawled. Thanks, he mouthed at Hermione, as she and Ron went back into the kitchen, followed by Crabbe and Goyle, who kept looking back over their shoulders. Ron closed the door.

"They're clingy because they're afraid I'm going to leave them again," Draco sighed. He looked Harry anxiously up and down. "You were outside for ages. Are you okay?" he asked.

"Fine," sighed Harry, as Draco took him in his arms. He had so much to say that he didn't even know where to start. "Do you ... ah." Harry felt himself blushing, and finished lamely, "... need some help with, uh, Vincent and Gregory?" It felt strange to be saying their first names. Harry had to think for a moment before he could even remember them.

The tiniest smirk crossed Draco's face. "Call them Crabbe and Goyle, or they won't understand," he said. "They're about as familiar with their first names as you are." Harry grinned sheepishly, and Draco added: "They don't like taking orders from anyone but me, but thanks for the offer." He took a deep breath. "Sorry if I seem to be spending a lot of time with my Slytherin friends-"

He saw I was jealous, Harry thought. He's very perceptive. Or perhaps he just watches me more than I realise?

"-but I'll probably never see them again once the Fidelius Charm is in place," said Draco sadly.

"You don't know that. If you were the secret keeper, you'd know where they were," said Harry.

"And have Voldemort torture the secret out of me?" growled Draco. "Not a chance!" He looked at the floor, prodding at a peeling floor tile with one toe. "I've known them all my life. We were toddlers together. Letting them go is going to be very hard."

Harry thought about how he'd feel if he lost Hermione or Ron. "We could Transfigure a few beds, or sleeping bags," he invented quickly. "Your friends could stay here. At least for a few days."

Draco looked up again, with a hopeful expression.

"Mrs Weasley will scream about beds in the kitchen, but I'll see what I can do," said Harry. He could hear voices coming nearer, outside, and he wasn't surprised when the front door was flung open.

Moody limped in, looking like a jovial pirate who had forgotten his eye patch and parrot, but not his wooden leg. He pointed a thick finger at Draco. "You got Nagini!" he roared. "Bloody well done! We'll have a party tonight, in honour of you and your mum. It can be her wake." He gave Draco a thump on the back that almost knocked him flying. Harry positioned himself protectively in front of Draco, frowning, but Moody was already limping towards the kitchen.

Other Order members were filing back in. Some were bloodstained, but nearly all of them had fierce, hard grins of victory. They nodded at Draco

Draco looked them in the eye and nodded back. When they were gone, he turned the silver ring on his finger. "A wake for Mother," he said to Harry bleakly. "A wake where no one actually knew her but me, and Father isn't here."

Harry pulled him back into his arms, but Draco was tense. "Father doesn't even know Mother has passed on," he said, into Harry's neck. "They don't tell the prisoners anything. I can't even send Hedwig, because if the guards see her, they'll throw me into Azkaban too. I haven't seen or spoken to Father in years. The only reason I know he's still alive, is because they report it in the Daily Prophet when prisoners die. Then they bury them by the prison walls. The family doesn't even get their body."

Stroking Draco's back, Harry thought about Lucius Malfoy in Azkaban. In his mind's eye, he saw him, wearing a tattered, striped prison uniform, his once sleek shoulder-length white-blond hair matted and dirty. He was sitting on a filthy bed of straw in a freezing, barred cell. A grave by the prison was his only means of escape. Hermione had always said that magical society was at least three centuries behind the Muggles, in their treatment of prisoners. While the thought of the haughty, arrogant Lucius Malfoy brought low - the same man who had ordered the killing of Dumbledore's Army in the bowels of the Ministry of Magic, and had given Dobby the house elf extra punishments - didn't bother Harry in the least, and even gave him a certain satisfaction, the thought of what it was doing to Draco DID bother him. He realised that there WAS a way of putting Draco in contact with his father, and at the same time, he saw with absolute clarity, that he must be in love with Draco. He would risk a term in Azkaban just to see him smile.

"Harry, you're squeezing me."

"Sorry," said Harry, releasing him at once. "I was just planning something."

"Planning what? You're blushing, Harry."

"A surprise for you. To make you happy," said Harry, aware that his cheeks were burning.

Draco's expression turned sultry. "A bedroom surprise?"

"TWO surprises, one of them in bed," said Harry. He was making it up as he went along, but he was pleased to see Draco's sad eyes brighten.

"Looking forward to it."

"Are you going to be all right tonight?" asked Harry, with concern. He couldn't imagine anything worse than being at a party surrounded by strangers.

"What? At this so-called wake?" Draco's expression at that moment made him look like his father. "Of course I will! A party where you can meet new people and network is a useful thing. I was so disappointed when Slughorn didn't invite me to the Slug Club."

Harry rolled his eyes in amusement. "Draco, you are such a Slytherin."

But Draco wasn't a bit taken aback. "Of course! And proud of it! I'm a Malfoy. How do you think Father managed to stay out of Azkaban the first time? Because he knew people and called in a few favours. I haven't met the Order socially yet, but just you wait, Harry, I'll have them eating out of my hand," Draco boasted. He actually rubbed his hands together at the prospect. "But I'll be thinking of you all the time. I'm looking forward to my surprises." He gave Harry a quick kiss, and swept away, into the kitchen.

Harry watched him go, smiling ruefully. The Order wasn't going to know what hit them.

oOoOoOo

Many crowded hours later, midnight arrived. Those of the Order who were not on duty were sprawled drunkenly over the roof of the Headquarters. 

"Do that trick again, Draco," chorused Fred and George.

Balanced on the very top of the roof, Draco pointed his wand into the cloudy sky. "Veritasmordre!" he yelled. A jet of light flew from his wand and exploded into brilliant, green stars. But instead of forming a Dark Mark, the stars formed scintillating capital letters:

VOLDEMORT IS A TOSSER!

The Order gave a ragged, drunken cheer.

"Thass a fing of beauty," slurred Mad-Eye Moody, saluting the words with his glass of Firewhiskey and taking a swig. Wordlessly, Draco refilled his glass and Moody cackled in delight.

Harry wasn't quite sure how they'd all gotten up there. His memory of the last few hours was a bit patchy. The few drinks in honour of Draco and his mother had turned into quite a few drinks, once Moody and the rest of the Order realised that their guest of honour was capable of Charming Firewhiskey by the pint. Harry remembered he had told and retold the story of Draco capturing Nagini and making Voldemort bleed. No one had managed to make Voldemort bleed before, not even Harry or Dumbledore. Each time Harry had told the story, he'd felt the Order's attitude towards Draco thawing out a little more, though he could see that Mr Weasley and Draco were never going to be the best of friends. When Harry had asked Draco about that, he'd muttered something about, "Midnight raids on the mansion." Apart from storytelling, Harry hadn't participated much. He'd spent those hours watching and listening. There had been so much to take in.

He remembered watching Hermione and Blaise discussing the way Draco had Transfigured his dead Mother into a silver ring:

"It's the way pure-bloods do it," Blaise had said. "Father is now a very nice vase on Mother's mantelpiece back home."

"You mean his ashes are in a vase?" Hermione had asked.

"No, he IS a vase."

He remembered Lupin chatting with Theodore and Pansy:

"How could I NOT want to be a Death Eater after seeing Malfoy's example all through Sixth Year," Theodore had said sarcastically. "He made it look like a barrel of laughs. Like the time he crawled back to Hogwarts one night after the Dark Lord had used the Cruciatus Curse on him. He was the Slytherin Seeker and we were playing Gryffindor that morning, but he was too sick to get out of bed."

"He made us promise not to call Madam Pomfrey, because he was afraid she'd work out someone had used an Unforgivable on him and call the Aurors." Pansy had looked frightened at the memory.

"And they'd realise he was Marked and take him away to Azkaban," Theodore had added.

Pansy had shuddered. "That's right. It was SO horrible. We were all sitting there by his bed, hoping he wouldn't die. I NEVER want to be a Death Eater."

But most of all, Harry remembered Draco. How dignified and charming he had been as he accepted both congratulations and polite, but fairly indifferent, condolences from people who had been his enemies only days before. How his smile had lit up the room and his sleek, white-blond hair had shone. He was raised for this, Harry had thought. Raised for diplomacy, making small talk with strangers, handling the media and all those things I'm so bad at. And he loves me...

"You're staring at Draco again," said Hermione, breaking Harry out of his reverie. There was a cold breeze blowing up on the roof and Harry shivered.

"Do you blame me?" muttered Harry. Draco's hair glowed silver in the light of the half moon.

Hermione smiled. "I'm pleased that you're ... together. It's far better for Draco that you are," she said tentatively.

Despite the comforting mist of alcohol in his brain, Harry felt his suspicions rise. "That's a strange thing to say, Hermione," he said. "It's not as if Draco would die, if we weren't dating."

His suspicions rose further, when Hermione pointedly avoided his gaze. "Oh, look at that!" she scolded, staring at Mad-Eye Moody. The scarred Auror was standing at the very edge of the roof, balancing drunkenly, to cheers from some of the Order, including, Harry noted, Dedalus Diggle. "Honestly, Moody's like a elderly child. No sense of responsibility at all. I'm sure Muggles must have seen Draco's spells, too, and Moody hasn't told the twins to stop egging him on. I'll go and have a word with him right now."

She's trying to change the subject, thought Harry. But before he could say anything, Hermione slid down the roof, and he saw her remonstrating with Moody. He couldn't hear what Hermione was saying, but he heard Moody bellow in reply, "I'm a wizard! If I fall off the roof, I'll bounce! Constant vigilance!" Even drunk, Moody still managed to look intimidating and ready to attack at any moment.

A pale, silvery glow moving over the rooftops caught Harry's attention. It wasn't the moon. He looked suspiciously at Hermione, for a moment, then slid over to Draco and muttered in his ear. "Your first surprise is nearly here. Let's go to our bedroom and I'll show you," he said.

His boyfriend beamed. "Is this just a ploy to get me alone? I hope so." He snuggled up to Harry, who gave him a squeeze. He was so warm and he smelled so good that Harry didn't want to let him go.

"Not a ploy. Well, not entirely. You're going to love this," said Harry. He stood up. "Let's get down off the roof." Behind him, he heard a boing, boing, boing noise going down the street and didn't need to look down to know what Moody had done. He heard Hermione's irritated sniff above the whoops of the Order.

"All right, but not the way Moody just did," said Draco. "That looked painful."

oOoOoOo

"What did you want to show me?" drawled Draco when they got to their bedroom and locked the door. 

Harry pulled him onto the bed. "A message," he said. "Prongs..."

The silvery stag Patronus stepped gracefully into view, inclining his noble, antlered head.

"A Patronus message? Who from?"

Grinning, Harry said, "You'll see..." He waved his wand to start the message.

Both of them listened intently and heard...

...nothing.

Puzzled, Harry waved his wand again, but the silence continued. He started to feel a bit embarrassed.

"Are we supposed to be hearing something now?" asked Draco, clearly amused by Harry's sheepish expression.

"It didn't work. I've never known Patronus messaging not to work," said Harry in disbelief. Prong stamped a hoof. The Patronus seemed irritated and that gave Harry a clue. "Or it DID work, and he didn't say anything." It was a crushing disappointment. "He didn't say anything! I should have known that he wouldn't trust me."

"Who wouldn't trust you?" asked Draco.

Harry was going to say the name, but Prongs broadcast the sound of antlers striking someone. The Patronus had clearly gotten tired of recording nothing. Harry heard a yelp of fury.

The sound had an electric effect on Draco. "Father!" he cried.

"How dare you, Potter?" came Lucius Malfoy's cold voice. "Isn't it enough I have a life sentence in Azkaban without you forcing me to send a message and getting me into worse trouble? If anyone is listening, I had nothing to do with this. Potter's monstrosity visited without my permission and ... ouch!" he exclaimed, as there was the sound of antlers hitting flesh again. Prongs hadn't taken well to being called a monstrosity.

Draco had both hands clapped to his mouth. "You sent Prongs to Father? Harry, you could be in so much trouble if you're caught. They'll throw you into Azkaban."

"I won't be caught," said Harry, with more confidence than he felt. "Prongs is too smart to let himself be seen or heard by the guards." Inside, he could hear Hermione's voice telling him: RECKLESS! Even if Prongs isn't caught, Lucius Malfoy could try to blackmail you! He'd love to see you in Azkaban!

"But you hate Father," said Draco. "And you still did this for me." A curious, hungry look came over him. "Why did you do this, Harry?" Harry thought that Draco had guessed the answer already, when he hugged him.

The sight of those sparkling grey eyes up close made Harry kiss him. He didn't even have to think about it. "Do you want to send your Father a message? Prongs is waiting. I'll go out of the room so you can talk privately." Harry released his boyfriend and walked to the door, but when his hand touched the door handle, he heard Draco call out.

"Thank you, Harry. I love you."

Harry smiled, as he shut the door behind him. "I love you too, Draco."

oOoOoOo

Harry went down to the kitchen, and chatted to the Slytherins for a half an hour, as they bedded down in Transfigured squashy, purple sleeping bags. He made sure Crabbe and Goyle were tucked in, and was heading back up the stairs when he met Draco halfway. 

There were tearstains on Draco's face and his damp eyes burned. He jumped up on Harry and wrapped both arms and legs around him. "Thank you. Thank you SO much. I thought I'd never speak to Father again. Oh, Merlin, Harry. I love you, I love you, I love you." He sobbed, and started passionately kissing every square centimetre of exposed flesh on Harry's face and neck.

"I love you too," gasped Harry breathlessly. He kissed him back, screwing up his eyes and wrapping his arms tightly around his lover. How they made it up the stairs and into the bedroom, he was never quite sure. All he knew was the sound of the bedroom door locking as they fell onto the bed, and the feeling his heart would burst with pleasure. This time there was no competition. No teasing. They were making love.

Draco was wearing far too many clothes for Harry's liking. He pulled the t-shirt out of Draco's jeans, pulled it off him and ran his hands over his chest, looking into Draco's desire-darkened eyes. He ran his tongue down the Sectumsempra scar he had given Draco: a lifetime ago, it felt like. He couldn't imagine hating or hurting him now. Draco moaned and arched his body. Then Harry pulled on Draco's belt.

"Second surprise," Harry panted, undoing the fly and pushing the jeans down. His boyfriend watched him avidly. As Harry took him in his mouth for the first time, he saw Draco's eyes roll back in his head. Harry didn't know what to expect. Draco tasted of salty skin and felt oh-so hard. He licked him from the base, up to the head, swirled his tongue around, took him deeply in his mouth, and sucked until his cheeks hollowed. Draco bent his head back, groaned and thrust into Harry's mouth.

Harry felt a touch of pride at the short time Draco managed to last. Within a couple of minutes, Draco was panting a warning and Harry tasted a bitter saltiness. Resolutely, he swallowed it. It wasn't his favourite thing, but watching his boyfriend's reaction was worth it.

Draco was bonelessly relaxed and smiling, when Harry lay down next to him. The Slytherin pulled away from Harry's kiss and uttered one word: "Clothes!" Then he started stripping Harry in turn. Harry let him, luxuriating in the touch of Draco's hands, and the way he stopped to kiss each part he revealed. Before long, both were naked.

Harry was so hard that he ached. Draco trailed his fingertips up and down his length, watching Harry's reaction hungrily. "I want this inside me," the Slytherin whispered.

"Sit down on me again."

Draco shook his head. "I want to try it this way," he said, rolling onto his back and lifting his knees to his shoulders, opening himself for his lover. Harry stared in amazement and desire, and Draco grinned wickedly. "Like what you see?" he chuckled, wiggling his bottom.

Harry replied by bending down and taking Draco's hardening length into his mouth again. But Draco pushed him off after a couple of moments. "I want come with you inside me," he insisted, aiming a preparation spell at himself.

Harry held onto Draco's thighs as he pushed inside. He could feel them trembling and see Draco's uncertain expression. "Does it hurt?" he whispered. His boyfriend shook his head, but his clenched jaw told a different story. There was nothing Harry wanted more than to be buried in that hot tightness, but he started to withdraw, not wanting to hurt Draco any further. As he did, Draco suddenly squeezed his eyes shut and his whole body bucked.

Harry froze. "I'm sorry!" he cried.

Draco opened his eyes. His sweat darkened hair clung to his forehead and he had never looked more thoroughly debauched. "Sorry? You'll be sorry if you hit that spot again, Harry," he said in the most breathlessly bossy tones Harry had ever heard him use. Surprised, Harry started to move again, cautiously at first, then harder and harder as Draco bucked and came undone.

"Oh MERLIN, Harry, I love this position. I love you!" Draco wailed. He didn't last long and Harry didn't last much longer, thrusting into the clenching, tightening heat. He collapsed on top of his lover's sticky, sweaty body, rolled off onto one side, and wrapped his arms around to him.

The two of them caught their breath. Draco hadn't opened his eyes. He lay with a smile on his face, as Harry stroked his sweaty fringe off his forehead. "I feel like I've known you for years and years," murmured Harry.

"You HAVE known me for years and years," said Draco sleepily.

"I know but not in a good way. I feel like we've been going out for ages."

"It's been a day and counting," said Draco, opening his eyes and smiling. "A day and half a lifetime." His eyes drifted shut again.

The sweat was cooling on their bodies. Harry pulled the blankets over them both and the Slytherin snuggled up and rested his head on Harry's shoulder. Harry studied his face lovingly for several minutes, the high cheekbones, the pointed chin, and was about to speak when Draco's mouth dropped open and he gave a tremendous snore.

I'll tell you I love you in the morning, Harry though. I'll tell you how much I wish this could have happened earlier. What a pity it is that we wasted so many years. He took one last look at Draco's sleeping face and closed his own eyes.

A day and half a lifetime...

oOoOoOo

_**Author's Notes:**__ To be continued! Please review, it makes writing worthwhile._

_Wow! Fifty-seven reviews since the last chapter. Now The Bodyguard has 509 reviews. Thank you everyone! _

_**Replies To Reviews:**_

_Thank you very much for reviewing (deep breath): jinxgirl, Goddess of the Night, A Huge Fan Of Yours, Daedalus Plum, DestinyDragon, RinafromSTL, Iset, Crystal Malfoy, InsanityamI, Crowley Black, Kit turned Mighty, Cheezewizz, HecateDeMort, NinjaoftheDarkness, HarrylovesDraco, Moonsign, AncientHistory, rAiNwAtEr, A Raven's last song, ProperT, LostSoul4, Emu Alive and Kicking, kozie, Avs, Pete Magno, SuishouTenshi, Tears Falling Freely, Yellowwolf, Night Air, Netty, and Potter's Wifey._

_Your Mom Is My Heart: Thanks for all those reviews! Voldemort has always acted that way about blood. No, he's not mortal, sadly. Love your speculations about Horcruxes! Umbridge will die horribly. I promise!_

_Esgalhothwen: Thanks for reviewing so many times and staying up to read. I hope you weren't too tired the next day._

_Queen Vampiress: Moody's even more annoying now! ;-) Thanks for your review._

_ElvenTwinLover: I doubt the Slytherins would be as upset as Ron was, if they walked in on Draco and Harry at it together. They did live in the same dorm as Draco. They've seen what he gets up to! ;-)_

_Riku-Rocks: Thanks. The characters ARE changing as the story progresses. Glad you like it! There will be much more about the Vow in the next chapter._

_The Earth Mystic: Moody managed to stomp himself into the ground this chapter without Harry's help. ;-) Thanks for reviewing._

_Lady Ichabod: Thanks! If only a Horcrux could be destroyed as easily as by stamping on it. Nagini's dead, but a piece of Voldemort's soul is still inside her. That will have to be dealt with and it could get messy. Remember what happened to Dumbledore's hand when he destroyed the ring Horcrux?_

_xoxSasukexox: Thank you beta! Sorry I took so long to get this chapter out. LOL! I've got more than 10 reviews. Did you mean 1000? That would be amazing, but The Bodyguard is only halfway there. Thanks for reading it so many times. That's really flattering. ;-)_

_JaniSage: Thanks for liking Moody. I'm trying to write him like old policeman, who's been in the force for decades. He's a bit of a drunk (no one suspected anything when the fake Moody kept drinking from a hip flask), he's a bit of a larrikin, he's oblivious to physical injury (in himself or others) because he's been hurt, and seen others hurt, so many times, he's so cynical that he can come across as cruel (for instance, when he was sneering at Barty Crouch Jr begging for mercy at his trial in Goblet of Fire), but he's had decades to become a very accurate judge of human nature (Crouch Jr really WAS guilty). Though Moody'd never admit it, and he hides it well under his old, curmudgeonly exterior, deep down, he has a kind heart. I can't see him being an old friend of Dumbledore's if he were otherwise. As for being a BACHELOR, do you mean Moody's gay? That means Moody slash! Arrgh! You've scared me! I bet he'd be scarred all over! ;-)_

_King of Angmar: Has no one made Harry want to be like Dumbledore before? Cool! ;-)_

_GreenEyedCatDragon: Thanks. Now Harry's being oblivious about something else... _


	23. Extra Punishments

**The Bodyguard**

**Chapter 23: Extra Punishments**

Harry dreamed he was in the Hogwarts library, doing Potions homework with Hermione, Ron, and the Half-Blood Prince. The teenaged Snape sat at their table as if he'd always been their friend, chatting and joking, snidely suggesting spells of his own invention for them to try, and all but doing their Potions homework for them.

In the surreal way of dreams, no one questioned the presence of a teenager who should have been over forty and on the run from the law. Ron merely looked grateful when Snape virtually dictated his and Harry's essays, and though Hermione looked irritated at the way Ron and Harry were getting out of studying, Harry saw her surreptitiously writing down Snape's suggestions.

Harry knew he was dreaming about someone who would grow up to be a hated murderer. He wanted to scream at him, or strike him down with one of his own Dark spells. But how could he possibly do that to this clever, inventive boy, who was so much help?

They had finished their Potions homework and were playing a secretive and illegal game of Gobstones under the table (the teenaged Snape was very good) when Harry heard footsteps approaching. He turned and saw a swirl of black robes, and candlelight shining on greasy, black hair. Was it the adult Snape? The figure - it's shape and the way it moved - seemed so familiar, but it's face was veiled. Harry felt a rush of hatred and fear, nonetheless. The figure loomed over them threateningly, and then he woke with a start.

He was in bed, warm under the blankets, with Draco at his side. There were footsteps outside the door. As his mind detangled from the dregs of his dream, he thought it sounded like a couple of very heavy people walking up the stairs.

"That'll be Crabbe and Goyle, making sure I haven't run away," murmured Draco, looking very cute, with his hair mussed up from sleep. There was a heavy knock and he unlocked the door with a wave of his wand. "It's open!" he called out.

"Wait, Draco!" said Harry, waking up in a hurry. "I haven't got any clothes on!" But the door was already opening.

Crabbe and Goyle trooped in. Harry quickly pulled the blankets up to his neck as the two Slytherins lumbered towards the bed. They stared at Draco with dull, patient eyes.

"'Morning," drawled Draco. "Have you brushed your teeth yet?" Crabbe and Goyle shook their heads and Draco pointed at the bathroom. "Go ahead. I'll be in to help you in a minute." As the Slytherins walked away, he caught sight of Harry's shocked expression and laughed. "Why so shy? You got nothing to worry about, Harry. If I had a body like that, I'd be showing it to everyone." He started tickling Harry under the blankets.

Harry yelped and wrestled Draco until he'd caught both his hands, feeling equally turned on and embarrassed.

"I heard you DID show your body to everyone." Hermione's voice came cheekily through the open doorway and she walked in. She was already dressed, in jeans and a robe.

Draco sniggered, as Harry grabbed him possessively. "Have you been talking to Blaise, Hermione?"

"Might have been," said Hermione sweetly. She looked them up and down. "You two aren't out of bed yet? Hurry up! I want the four of us to pay a visit Hagrid today."

"We haven't seen Hagrid in ages, but we should be looking for ... those things," said Harry. He could still feel his cheeks burning in embarrassment. His private bedroom had become a thoroughfare.

"That's partly why I wanted to see Hagrid, Harry," Hermione answered. She didn't seem to be the slightest bit disturbed about talking to two boys, who were naked under the blankets. "You said that Hagrid overheard Dumbledore and Snape having an argument in the Forbidden Forest. I wanted ask Hagrid what they were arguing about."

"Why is that?" asked Harry.

"I want to find out if Draco's right: if Snape is working for the Order and picking up those ... things," said Hermione. She saw Harry's expression change and said, "I know, but we're at a dead end. And I think Draco may be right about Snape. He knew him much better than we did."

Draco looked thoughtful. "I'll send an owl to Irma Pince, the Librarian, just like Severus suggested, so she can get us past the wards."

Harry groaned and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. "Why do I have a bad feeling about this?" he asked no one in particular.

oOoOoOo

The quartet Apparated to Hogsmeade and walked over to Hogwarts. Seeing the castle again brought a rush of feelings to Harry. It was one of the few places he'd ever felt at home. He looked at the dear old towers, silhouetted against the blue sky, the wide lake where the giant squid was waving its tentacles and basking in the sun, and felt a lump in his throat. All those days he'd spent there, under the watchful eye of Dumbledore, taking classes and doing homework. It had all seemed so difficult, but looking back, they were the easiest, and most enjoyable days of his life.

At his side, Draco seemed tense. He was staring at the ground, and looked more like a man going to his execution, than one returning to his beloved school. "Bad memories," he muttered, when Harry asked. "My last year there was hell and I can't forget that night up on the Astronomy Tower. I don't think I can look anyone at Hogwarts in the eye."

Harry took Draco's hand. "That year's over and done with now. Think of what you've done in the last few days."

"I don't fancy seeing Hagrid," said Draco, still looking at the ground. "Do you think he'll take revenge on me for destroying his shack?"

"No, Hagrid's not like that," said Harry, adding firmly. "And it was a house, Draco."

"He always terrified me. The big half-giant with his killer beasts," muttered Draco, as though the confession was drawn from him by force. His cheeks turned slightly pink.

"Hagrid's really sweet when you get to know him," said Harry loyally. "And I won't let him blame you. If he does, I'll tell him you did to Voldemort yesterday..."

Draco looked up, with a slight smile on his face.

"Hagrid will love that," said Harry, smiling back.

They reached the gates. The road continued through them, and on up to the castle's main doors, but the gates were firmly locked. Ron shook them. "Where's Madam Pince?" he grumbled, pushing his red hair back frustratedly.

Harry looked along the road...

...and froze.

There were two people walking down from Hogwarts. One was Argus Filch. But beside him was a figure wearing a black veil and moving in a way that sent shivers down Harry's spine and made him plunge his hand into his robes and wrap his fingers around the handle of his wand. The figure scuttled, like a spider, and wore billowing, black robes, and a veil. Underneath the veil, there was a suggestion of black, greasy hair. It's Snape, Harry thought, remembering his dream. But he didn't pull his wand out because, on second glance, the figure was too short, and definitely female. She was close enough for Harry to hear Filch wheezing before he was certain she was Madam Pince.

Harry had seen her last at Dumbledore's funeral. He remembered she'd worn a veil then too. Filch had been comforting her, and it had been obvious that they were a couple (horrible thought!) But he'd been distracted by his own grief for Dumbledore and hadn't paid them much attention. Harry silently activated his Occlumency. Something wasn't quite right here and he wanted to protect his mind. Why hadn't he noticed Pince's similarities to Snape before? It was as if he'd been magically unable to compare them. Harry knew of only one spell with that effect: the Fidelius Charm.

None of the others appeared to have noticed. Draco was politely greeting Pince and Filch, as they unbarred the gate.

"'Morning, Master Malfoy. Or Mr Malfoy, I should call you now," replied Filch. His manner towards Draco was familiar, sympathetic, and just a touch deferential. This struck Harry as strange. Filch was a squib and Draco an only recently ex-Death Eater. Shouldn't Filch fear him?

"We're terribly sorry to hear about your mother, Draco," said Madam Pince from under her veil, and it was only Occlumency that prevented Harry from crying out. That silky voice wasn't exactly the same as the one that haunted his nightmares, but it was far too close. Harry longed to say something, but Pince was an unknown quantity. Supposing she was a master of the Dark Arts, like the man she so closely resembled? He couldn't attack her, with his friends still unawares.

Filch and Pince opened the gate, and let the quartet in. Draco and Filch chatted about inconsequential things, but Pince, Harry was quick to notice, said nothing more after her first greeting. He couldn't see her eyes but was aware they were fixed upon him. She had noticed he was using Occlumency, even if no one else had.

Hermione and Ron trailed behind, as they walked up the road towards Hogwarts, clearly put out at being barely acknowledged by Filch and Pince.

"I need to retrieve my trunk from my dorm," said Draco.

"The password for the Slytherin common room is 'Sorrow'," Filch said. He scowled at the Gryffindors, as though daring them to gloat that they had overheard. Harry recalled that Filch had always treated the Slytherin students better, and had been deeply in cahoots with the then Slytherin Head of House - Snape. He remembered how he had seen Snape revealing his injuries from Hagrid's three-headed dog, Fluffy, to Filch in First Year.

The new main doors of Hogwarts loomed up and Harry felt a pang. The originals had been blasted to splinters years ago, when Snape, Draco and the rest of the Death Eaters had taken their leave, after Dumbledore's murder. Their replacements were pale, and unmarked; a far cry from the time-blackened originals, which had been eroded by a thousand years of use. It was strange to think that the events unfolding over the past few years had been the most destructive in Hogwarts's thousand-year history. Pince opened the new doors and they entered the Great Hall. Overhead, the ceiling was a brilliant blue, without a single cloud.

Hermione and Ron were bickering gently. "I'm sure this place is smaller than I remember," said Ron.

"That's only because you're bigger," said Hermione, amused. "Isn't that right, Harry?"

Harry said nothing. The moment he'd set foot over the threshold, a terrible, oppressive sense of dread had come over him. It even overwhelmed his sense of mistrust towards Filch and Pince. The Great Hall seemed airless and tense. Something terrible was about to happen. He looked at his friends and felt a rush of fear.

"Wait," he said. His voice was low, but the single word seemed to drop like a stone, and silence all the chatter around him.

Except Filch. "Yes, all the students are on their summer holidays. It's good to not have them cluttering up the place," he was saying to Draco. He stopped as he noticed everyone staring at Harry. "What's the matter?" he wheezed.

Harry had pulled out his wand and was staring at the ceiling of the Great Hall. All the dread was centred there. It wasn't aimed at him, he knew, but at someone close by. The ceiling seemed to stare back at him, all blue and innocent, but Harry wasn't fooled. He felt as though he were standing inside the body of a giant, and feeling a sleeping immune system waking up around him, ready to destroy the invaders.

"Start walking back towards the main doors," he said softly, not taking his eyes off the ceiling.

Hermione and Ron were far too used to Harry noticing things they hadn't, to question him. They headed for the doors at once. Draco took one look at Harry and followed them. But Filch and Pince stared suspiciously and didn't move.

A bolt of white lightning crackled across the ceiling, incongruous amid the blue sky.

Abruptly, Harry shouted, "Run!"

He saw that Pince had the snappy reflexes of someone who'd trained to fight. She grabbed Filch, who was staring open-mouthed at the ceiling, and dragged him towards the door.

Draco was passing Harry when a bolt of lightning speared out of the ceiling, aimed at the Slytherin's chest. Harry's arm lashed out and caught the brunt of the bolt on the tip of his wand. Dazzled by the flash and deafened by the thunderclap, Harry wrapped a protective arm around Draco and struggled through the doors. The fresh air told him he was outside. He was barely aware of Pince and Filch hurrying through the doors before he closed them and leaned against them, panting. The dread began to subside.

They all caught their breath. Harry's sight and hearing slowly returned. A Draco-shaped blur gasped, "What was THAT, Harry?"

"Hogwart's magical defences," panted Harry. The scent of ozone coming from under the doors, mixed with the smell of charred fabric, was overpowering. He blinked and Draco came into focus.

The Slytherin's borrowed t-shirt and jumper were smouldering and he was tearing them off, but it looked like his chest (his smooth, muscular chest - Harry noted - the days of good food were already making a difference) had escaped injury. Harry wrapped an arm around his shivering boyfriend. "Are you okay?"

Draco leaned against him. "Yes. Thanks, Harry. You saved me again!" He took a deep breath, noticed the way Harry was staring and smirked. "It's a bit chilly without my clothes. Not that you seem to mind."

"The defences were reacting to the presence of a Dark Mark, I think," Harry said, pulling off his jacket and draping it over his boyfriend's shoulders. He meant Draco's Dark Mark, which had faded again to the point of being invisible, but he didn't miss Filch glancing at Pince with concern. The Librarian was trembling all over and clutching her left arm.

"I don't understand," said Draco. He was trying to get into Harry's jacket but it was far too small for him, so he left it draped over his shoulders. "If Hogwarts does that to people with Dark Marks, why didn't it do that to Snape when he was teaching there? Why didn't it do that to ME in Sixth Year?"

"It can be told not to attack certain people," said Harry. He saw Filch and Pince glance at each other. "I had a talk with Headmaster McGonagall about it a few years ago. Also, any powerful wizard or witch can work out ways to get the defence system to ignore them. Barty Crouch Junior did for nearly a year."

"So that counts out luring Voldemort here and watching lightning zap him," said Draco, only half-jokingly.

Harry grinned. "'Fraid so." Hermione was looking at him strangely, as if she'd only just noticed his Occlumency.

Draco sighed, "I guess this means I'll have to wait out here, while all of you go and talk to Hagrid." He didn't look upset at this prospect. "Could you please get my trunk while you're in there?"

"Headmaster McGonagall will hear about this, Draco," Pince said, drawing herself up. She seemed to have recovered from her shock. "I will ask her to alter the defence system so you may enter. Come, Argus. We will send the Headmaster a letter." But Harry thought she looked a little too cautious as she re-entered Hogwarts, with Filch close behind. She stared at the ceiling and took a few hesitant steps inside. Then, when nothing happened, she hurried away, followed by Filch. Her spidery walk made Harry want to frown, but his Occlumency stopped him.

"Those two are hiding something," said Harry darkly, the moment Filch and Pince were out of earshot.

"I noticed you were using Occlumency," said Hermione.

"So did I," said Draco. "Your eyes went all twinkly, like Dumbledore's. I tried not to draw attention to it, but I think Madam Pince noticed."

"Pince sounds and moves just like a female version of Snape," said Harry. "I've seen her for years but I've only just noticed. And she doesn't want her face recognised."

"I thought it strange that she was still wearing a veil, though she wasn't at a funeral," said Hermione.

"She was under a Fidelius Charm, but it's gone now," Harry stated.

"Does Snape have a sister?" asked Ron curiously.

"No. The only female relative I know of was his mother: Eileen Prince," said Draco. Glimpses of his chest were still visible under the too-small jacket, and Harry found it hard to take his eyes off him.

"Didn't Dumbledore kill Prince?" asked Ron.

"Maybe Dumbledore told the Ministry he killed her, then protected her with the Fidelius Charm and employed her here, just like he employed her son?" said Harry, with the trace of a sneer. Thinking about Snape made him angry.

"Dumbledore was supposed to have killed the Dark wizard Grindelwald and I don't see HIM working here," Ron pointed out. "You can't be sure that Pince is Snape's mother. If you accuse her of being a Death Eater, there's no way she or Filch will let you back into Hogwarts."

"Couldn't Hagrid let you in?" asked Draco.

Harry thought of Hagrid's pink umbrella. "I doubt it," he said. "Wards are complicated things." Ron was right, Harry knew. He needed more proof...

"I don't think Draco shouldn't wait out here by himself," said Hermione suddenly. "Not if you're feeling uncomfortable about Madam Pince, Harry. We've doubted you before and you've turned out to be right. I'll wait with Draco, and you and Ron go in and get Draco's trunk, and ask Hagrid to come outside."

"That's a good idea, Hermione," said Harry. "Ron, do you feel up to going into the Slytherin common room?"

Ron brightened, "Yeah! Do you think the Slytherins would mind if I wrote the words, 'Gryffindor Rules', all over the walls?"

"Shut up, Ron!" muttered Draco. But he was smiling. Harry couldn't keep his hands off him any longer and - to Ron's horror - they gave each other a passionate goodbye kiss, running their hands all over each other's bodies.

"Stop snogging!" wailed Ron, and when Harry and Draco finally broke away from each other, he muttered, "It's like you two are saying goodbye forever, not for just a few minutes."

"Leave them alone, Ron," said Hermione, wrapping her arms around her boyfriend. "They look so cute together."

"If I didn't know better, I'd say you got off on watching boys kiss, Hermione," muttered Ron waspishly.

"Oh really, Ron," sniffed his girlfriend, but Harry noticed that her cheeks had gone a bit pink.

oOoOoOo

Even though Harry knew the students and teachers were away on their summer holidays, it was unnerving to be wandering the labyrinthine passages of the Hogwarts dungeons, without seeing a single other human being apart from Ron.

"Quiet, isn't it?" said Ron.

"Like a library. I hope Pince doesn't leap out at us," muttered Harry, only half-jokingly.

They reached the bare, damp stone wall, which they remembered, from Second Year, was the door to the Slytherin common room. "Sorrow," Harry said, and watched it slide open.

"It's a better door than Gryffindor's," Ron admitted. "No painting to give you cheek and refuse to let you in. Don't tell Draco I said that, though," he added hastily.

In First Year, thanks to the usual Gryffindor prejudice against Slytherins, Harry had imagined nothing less than manacles hanging from the walls, and torture devices, in the Slytherin common room, but in fact, it was similar to the Gryffindor common room, except the tapestries depicted green and silver snakes instead of red and golden lions. There were no windows, because the Slytherin dungeon was underground, and there wasn't a soul around. Harry almost wished a few Slytherins had stayed over the summer holidays, because he had no idea which dorm had been Draco's.

"There are at least fifty dorms. It will take ages to search every one," Harry said, walking past the row of doors past the fireplace.

But Ron pointed at a length of glowing yellow tape sealing off one of the doors. "Look at that," he said. He walked closer and said. "Yes, I've found it. Listen to this sign: BY ORDER OF THE MINISTRY! DO NOT ENTER! DANGEROUS DARK MAGIC!" Ron laughed. "I wish Draco were here," he said, with a grin and a snigger. "He could open this DANGEROUS DARK MAGIC DOOR for us!"

Harry grinned too, feeling happy that Ron clearly thought the idea Draco was truly evil to be ridiculous, and opened the door. He had his wand out, just in case Draco HAD put some magical protections up. But he doubted there were any. Surely Draco would have warned him if there were?

As it turned out, the only thing they had to worry about was the dust. The dorm hadn't been cleaned in years, the floor and furniture were grey, and every step kicked up choking clouds. "DANGEROUS DARK MAGIC DUST!" Ron laughed, and then sneezed loudly. Harry cast Bubble Head Charms around them both.

There were five beds, one for each of Draco's friends, except for Pansy, who'd slept in the girls' dorms. It was easy to tell which bed was Draco's. The trunk in front of it was richly carved, and inlaid with paler wood, forming the shape of the Malfoy coat of arms, a snake coiled around the neck of a winged, white horse. Clothes and books lay just where he'd left them years ago, when he'd been forced to flee Hogwarts in just the clothes he'd stood up in.

Harry looked at the neglected remains of Draco's amputated childhood and felt sad. He sent a Dusting Charm over the piles of books and clothes, but the dust was so thick, it barely made a difference. It made no difference at all to Draco's pillow and Harry pointed with his wand. "See that, Ron? There's some kind of protective spell there."

Staring at the pillow in curiosity, Ron said, "I wonder what Draco's got hidden?"

Harry was about to cast the spell again when suddenly, the dust in the whole room, even on the pillow, sparkled and vanished. Only a house elf was that good at Cleaning Charms, and Harry wasn't surprised to hear a familiar squeaky voice call out:

"Harry Potter, sir!"

Harry turned around, as the squealing house elf threw himself around his legs and squeezed so hard Harry was in danger of falling over. "Dobby!" Harry said, grasping one of Draco's bedposts to keep his balance.

"Dobby it is, sir!" squeaked the house elf, letting go of Harry and grinning all over his ugly face. "Dobby is very happy to see Harry Potter again and his friend Ron Wheezy, sir." The elf was wearing his usual odd mix of clothes, a tea cosy on his head, and many socks on his feet, but he had augmented his wardrobe with a t-shirt that was obviously designed to be worn by a human baby. There was a silly cartoon lamb printed on the front.

"I'm glad to see you too, Dobby," said Harry, wondering if his legs would ever work again. He took the Bubble Head Charms off himself and Ron.

"Hi," said Ron before looking down and prodding at the mysterious pillow with his wand.

"Dobby is surprised to see Harry Potter again, sir. Dobby thought Harry Potter had left Hogwarts for good, to fight He Who Must Not Be Named, sir," said the house elf, looking up with wide, green eyes.

"I did," said Harry. "I just came back to talk to Hagrid, and pick up Draco Malfoy's trunk."

"Harry Potter is helping bad Dark wizard, Draco Malfoy, sir?" said Dobby quizzically. A look of horror came over his face. "BAD Dobby!" he cried, and Harry grabbed him by the back of his t-shirt before he could bash his forehead against the bed as a punishment for insulting his previous master. Even as he saved the elf, Harry felt a bit annoyed on behalf of his boyfriend.

"Draco Malfoy isn't a Dark wizard anymore, Dobby. He's changed so much for the better, you wouldn't recognise him. I ... asked him out. He's actually my boyfriend now," Harry admitted, feeling his cheeks heat up.

"Yes, Dobby sees, sir," squeaked the house elf. "Draco Malfoy is bound to Harry Potter, heart, body and soul, sir."

"That's a romantic way of putting it," said Harry. Morbid curiosity made him ask. "What did the Malfoys do to you, Dobby, that you call them bad Dark wizards in the first place?" He took a tighter hold of Dobby's t-shirt in case the house elf tried to hurt himself again.

"Ah, Harry Potter, sir," said Dobby, with mixed fear and delight. "Dobby shouldn't be speaking of such things, sir. But Dobby will, because Harry Potter has asked, sir." He screwed his face up with concentration. "Dobby lived in the Malfoy mansion all his life, before Harry Potter freed him, and he knows the Malfoy family well, sir. They were all bad Dark wizards, sir." He made a dart towards the bed again, and Harry held onto him tightly. "He Who Must Not Be Named went to school with Abraxas Malfoy, grandfather of Draco Malfoy, and made him one of the first Death Eaters, sir. Lucius Malfoy was made a Death Eater at sixteen, like Abraxas Malfoy, and Dobby hears Draco Malfoy was too, sir."

"Yes," said Harry. Ron was listening intently. "But Draco said he didn't want to be a Death Eater. Voldemort manipulated him."

Dobby shuddered at the name, and at his memories. "Yes, sir. That is the way of He Who Must Not Be Named, sir. He works with lies, trickery and fear, not true loyalty, sir. Dobby saw him many times at the Malfoy mansion, before Harry Potter stopped him the first time, sir. Dobby remembers when Draco Malfoy was one and was seen playing with Muggle children by He Who Must Not Be Named, sir. That bad Dark wizard cut him on the arm and told his parents he would kill him if he heard of him treating Muggles as equals again, sir."

"Oh..." Harry murmured. It explained a lot about Draco's obsessive put downs aimed Muggle-borns and Muggles. His parents wouldn't have dared raise him any other way.

"He Who Must Not Be Named made Lucius Malfoy look after his Dark magic objects: poisons, bad books, and weapons, sir," squeaked Dobby, struggling in Harry's grip. "Sometimes Lucius Malfoy would walk around Malfoy manor, after He Who Must Not Be Named had left, and remind Dobby to do extra punishments, sir."

"What sort of extra punishments?" Ron asked angrily.

"Dobby would be hitting his head, because Dobby had not dared to dust the room He Who Must Not Be Named was in, and Lucius Malfoy would be telling him to hit his head harder, sir," squeaked Dobby solemnly.

Harry frowned. "Did Draco Malfoy ever do anything bad to you?" he asked indignantly.

"Oh yes, sir!" said Dobby and Harry grimaced. "When Draco Malfoy was ten, he brought a Muggle newspaper home he had found in the street, and told Dobby to keep watch in case Lucius Malfoy or Narcissa Malfoy saw it, sir. Well, Draco Malfoy read the newspaper and burned it, and did not tell Dobby to stop watching, sir! Dobby stayed awake for a whole week before Draco Malfoy remembered and told Dobby he could sleep, sir!"

Harry was unpleasantly reminded of the time Dobby had stayed awake for days while following Harry's order to tail Draco Malfoy in Sixth Year. He was glad Hermione wasn't here. "Dobby, I'm sorry, I did almost the same thing to you. I gave you an order that meant you couldn't sleep for days."

Dobby beamed at Harry. "But that doesn't matter, sir. Harry Potter ordered Dobby, and Harry Potter is not a bad Dark wizard so Dobby was happy to serve him, sir."

Harry wasn't fooled for a second. "Keeping you awake like that was the act of a bad Dark wizard, even if I want Voldemort dead and I don't do any Muggle-baiting. I'm so sorry, Dobby. It was selfish and thoughtless of me. I shouldn't have asked that of you." He remembered something else, "And I order you not to punish yourself for telling me all this stuff about the Malfoys, Dobby."

Dobby's grin widened and he stopped struggling. "Thank you, sir! Oh, Harry Potter is a good wizard, sir. Draco Malfoy should be proud to have such a master, sir!"

Bursting out laughing, Harry said, "I'm not Draco's master, Dobby. He's my boyfriend. We're equals."

"But Draco Malfoy is bound to Harry Potter, heart, body and soul, sir," squeaked Dobby.

This time, it didn't sound so romantic. "What do you mean?" asked Harry warily, glancing at Ron, who looked as confused as he did. Then he saw realization dawn on Ron's face.

"I think it's pretty obvious, Harry," said Ron. His eyes were wide.

A chill as sharp as a knife went through Harry's heart. "The Unbreakable Vow?" he whispered.

"'Tis a mark of a house elf's enslavement, that he can see enslavement in others, sir," squeaked Dobby. "Draco Malfoy is bound to Harry Potter, and can love no other all his life, sir. Draco Malfoy can never marry a woman and have children, sir. In comparison, a house elf is free, sir. We clean and cook, but our private lives are our own, sir."

Harry was shaking his head, refusing to believe what he had just heard. Was he having a nightmare? Was he going to wake up, in the bed in the attic bedroom, with Draco stroking his scar, and he would be in love with Draco, and Draco would be in love with him, and the Unbreakable Vow would have nothing to do with it? He sank down on Draco's bed, suddenly feeling felt very sick. "But I thought the Vow had gone?" he whispered, more to himself than anyone else. "It hasn't given Draco trouble for a while."

Ron sat down next to him, looking concerned. "Maybe that's because Draco's stopped fighting it?" he wondered aloud. "Maybe the Vow's broken him?"

Harry wrapped his arms around himself. He felt sicker than ever.

oOoOoOo

_**Author's Notes: **__Now we're getting back into the angst again! Please review and I'll keep 'em alive! ;-)_

_Yes, Hermione's a slasher. All the smart girls are! ;-)_

_I'll be updating as fast as I can over the next few weeks, as I want to finish this story before Deathly Hallows comes out._

_**Replies To Reviews:**_

_Thanks to the following people for reviewing: Fmh, HecateDeMort, mysoulmate, Lisa14, The Earth Mystic, Your Mom Is My Heart, Avalene, Jinxgirl71, thrnbrooke, foxtown, LunaSky, claire2007, Crowley Black, GreenEyedCatDragon, Esgalhothwen, NinjaoftheDarkness, Emu Alive and Kicking, and ProperT._

_Die Kikyo Die: Thanks. When I read the books, I got the impression Draco was doing all the thinking for Crabbe and Goyle. It remains to be seen if it's canon. (Fingers crossed!)_

_A Raven's last song: Thank you! Do you want it to be an mpreg?_

_ThePotionsMiss: Yeah, and Crabbe and Goyle's condition is all Voldemort's fault too. _

_Lady Ichabod: Yes, Hermione knew about the Vow. She'd read and understood it. So why didn't she warn Harry or Ron? ;-)_

_Daedalus Plum: I think Harry's had a BIG reminder of the vow now. How genuine Draco's feelings are, we will find out._

_Ripuku: I'm utterly amazed and grateful that you read eighty-four thousand words, in one sitting, with FF's burning-white background sizzling your eyes the whole time. (Offers a cold compress.) Thank you!_

_Kittendragon: There will be lots more about how the Unbreakable Vow works soon. _

_Riku-Rocks: I had to Google seme and uke, but now it makes sense. ;-) Yes, I can't see Harry as a bottom, can you? Thanks for liking how I've written Remus and Tonks._

_Tempest in Blue: Ginny could definitely shake things up. Thanks! ;-) _


	24. Draco's Diary

_**Author's Note: **__Thank you to Lana D and Chase Cassie Chase for being excellent betas. _

oOoOoOo

**The Bodyguard**

**Chapter 24: Draco's Diary**

"Has Dobby broken Harry Potter's heart by talking about the Unbreakable Vow, sir? Dobby must punish himself most severely, sir!" The house elf stared up at Harry with wide, miserable eyes and a wobbling lower lip. He grabbed one of his batwing-shaped ears. "Dobby will start by slamming his ear in the oven door-"

"No!" cried Harry. With an effort, he strengthened his Occlumency, sat up straight, and smiled. "I'm fine, Dobby. You did exactly the right thing, telling me what the Unbreakable Vow meant. Thank you," he lied, in the most cheerful voice he could manage. Inside, he wanted to scream in torment, but he forced it down. "If you'll please excuse us, Dobby, we have to pack up Draco's things now."

Maintaining his Occlumency, with so many turbulent feelings inside, was the hardest thing Harry had ever done, but he knew he'd been successful, when Dobby released his ear and his lower lip stopped wobbling. "Dobby is good at packing, sir," squeaked the elf much more cheerfully, and clicked his fingers. All around them, Draco's possessions rose into the air, and flew into his now-open trunk.

Harry saw the contents of the trunk sorting and folding, before the lid shut with a snap. "Thanks again, Dobby."

"Dobby left Draco Malfoy's diary, under his pillow, sir. Draco Malfoy has told Dobby before not to touch it, sir."

"That's fine, Dobby," said Harry absently, but he saw Ron perk up, like a dog smelling a bone.

"Harry Potter will be seeing Professor Hagrid now, sir? Professor Hagrid is living on the sixth floor with his creatures and Dobby is cleaning up after them all the time, sir. One of them tried to eat Mrs Norris last week, but unfortunately, she survived, sir." Dobby bowed low. "Goodbye, Harry Potter and Ron Wheezy, sir." He clicked his fingers and vanished.

Ron lay back on Draco's bed, and expelled a breath. "So THAT'S what the Vow was about. It IS some kind of Love Potion. Umbridge is SICK."

Harry could barely hear Ron over the screaming of the creature in his chest. He released his Occlumency and felt himself slump, like a marionette when the strings are cut.

"Poor Draco. Enslaved all his life. Unable to ever marry and have kids," said Ron with feeling.

"Forced to love me," said Harry tonelessly. "I can't think of anything worse."

Sitting up in a hurry, Ron said, "Don't say that, Harry. Draco's lucky to have you-"

"Lucky to have a master like me?" asked Harry bitterly, not looking at him. He sensed Ron was thinking hard about his next words.

"I mean, lucky to have a boyfriend like you. I've never seen Draco so happy since you started dating. Even his Slytherin friends have mentioned it. He was always such a sulky, miserable brat at school-"

"And now he's as happy as a house elf with a good master?" finished Harry, inwardly vowing to give Hermione money for SPEW. He was starting to understand, as never before, the true horror of a house elf's existence. Not only were they forced to be servants, but they were also forced to be HAPPY about it. The emotional control was ten times worse than the physical control.

Ron groaned. "I never thought I'd ever be saying this about Draco Malfoy, but don't be hard on him. He's not doing this to hurt you," he said, misinterpreting Harry completely.

"I know," said Harry, coldly. "It's not Draco's fault that he loves me. It's mine. I didn't defend him properly at the Wizengamot and now he's been saddled with a spell bond that makes a house elf feel free by comparison. Poor Draco would have been better off in Azkaban." Harry's voice cracked slightly at the last word and he fell backwards onto the bed. He was trembling all over. His eyes stung with tears and he blinked them back but they overflowed.

Ron looked like he was biting back what he had planned to say, in case he made things worse. After a pause, he admitted, "I'm rubbish at times like this, Harry. I never know what to say. Hermione always said I had the emotional range of a teaspoon, and she's right, as always." He patted Harry's shoulder, very quickly, in an awkward, embarrassed fashion. "Don't be upset, mate. Please! It will all turn out all right. Just wait until we can talk to Hermione, she'll make you feel better. She's read the Vow and I bet she knows exactly what it does."

Harry's heart seemed to implode as he considered this. "You're right, Ron. Hermione MUST know what the Vow does. Which means she knew all this time and didn't tell me." Ron's mouth opened in protest but Harry didn't let him get a word in. "She knew Draco wasn't really in love with me, but she watched me fall in love with him and didn't WARN me." Harry's sense of betrayal was absolute. It pushed him onto his feet and made him pace the room. He wiped his eyes harshly on his sleeve.

Ron watched, his face a mask of horror.

"And I bet Hermione isn't the only person who knows what the Vow means," Harry added. The Order and Hermione's accidental hints about the Vow, over the last few days, now seemed like a conspiracy. "Lupin and Moody know about the Vow for sure. They said Barnes told them something outside the Wizengamot, but they wouldn't tell me what. And Tonks must know. I bet ALL the Order know. No wonder they allowed an ex-Death Eater like Draco into the Headquarters, they KNEW that he couldn't betray them. Maybe they were even laughing at him behind his back?" Harry felt furious on Draco's behalf.

Ron's mouth was opening and shutting like a goldfish's. "I didn't know what the Vow meant," he insisted weakly. His face was so pale, his freckles stood out starkly. "If I'd known, I swear I would've told you."

Harry stopped pacing and looked at his best friend. "I know, Ron. You're the only person I can trust," he said, and started pacing again.

"You don't KNOW that Hermione and the Order betrayed you," Ron insisted. "Maybe Draco loved you anyway? Maybe that's why Hermione and the Order didn't tell you about the Vow? Because it didn't really change anything?"

"You sound like you're making up excuses for them," said Harry angrily. "Draco TOLD me he hated me, before he took the Vow. And how could ANYONE look at the way Draco treated me at school and think that he secretly loved me? He followed me around all the time, so he could insult me. He invented those 'Potter Stinks' badges. He taunted me during Quidditch. He tried to Crucio me..." Harry's heart ached and he berated himself for being so thoroughly taken in. A few days of loving treatment and he had opened his heart to someone who, in truth, hated him. How could he have been so STUPID as to believe Draco loved him? How could ANYONE love him? He felt hot tears of self-pity run down his face, and he hated himself. Resting his forehead against the wall, he willed himself to stop crying.

Ron was silent for a while. Then Harry heard him mutter something.

"What did you say?" asked Harry bleakly, turning around. His insides felt numb and the tears were drying on his face.

Much more clearly, Ron said, "Draco's diary. I know Draco always treated you badly, Harry, but we've got his diary right here. If he secretly loved you, maybe he wrote about it?"

"We can't read Draco's diary, it's private," snapped Harry. Then he gave a miserable bark of laughter. "I sound like Hermione."

"You do, Harry," said Ron, wryly. "But what if I'm right? You can't face Draco, knowing what you know now, without at least checking to see if he loved you before he took the Vow."

"Draco did say he had no secrets from me..." Harry's voice trailed off. He was burning with curiosity, but the thought of reading Draco's diary without permission filled him with guilt. It wasn't as bad as forcibly using Legilimency, but it was close.

"Draco must have made some HUGE confessions," said Ron, sliding over to the pillow and taking out his wand. "He's Locked his diary with a powerful Curse. I checked it while you were talking to Dobby." With an eager glance at Harry, he said, "What could be a bigger confession than saying he's in love with you? I don't know about you, mate, but I'm tempted to have a look."

It WAS too tempting for words. "All right," said Harry, guiltily.

"Cool!" said Ron, grinning. "Just give me a minute. Bill breaks Curses like this for a living and he showed me how..." A look of intense concentration came over his freckled face and held the tip of his wand on the pillow for a long moment, his lips working silently. Then, smirking with triumph, he flipped the pillow to one side, revealing a tiny book.

Bound in dark green leather, Draco's diary was only the size of a postage stamp, though much thicker. The cover was decorated with a coiled serpent, smaller than Harry's little fingernail and embossed deeply into the leather.

Harry picked up the diary. It was feather-light. He'd seen such tiny books in Flourish and Blotts but he had always assumed that they were a joke.

"It's a Shrinking Diary," Ron explained. "Dad bought one for Ginny, after you destroyed Riddle's Diary. He wanted her to have something to write in that wouldn't try to steal her soul. You can hide Shrinking Diaries anywhere because they're so small."

"So how do you write in one?" asked Harry. He turned the pages, but they were an illegible blur. "Let alone read one?" he added. The diary seemed to be full of tiny, pasted-in objects. He ran his finger over a swatch of black fabric, on the first page of the diary.

"You have to stroke the spine," said Ron, not looking his friend in the eye, and Harry guessed he'd been reading Ginny's diary behind her back. Silently swearing never to keep a secret diary with Ron around, Harry ran his index finger down the spine and staggered; the diary had suddenly swelled into a huge, heavy volume he could barely get his arms around. He dropped it onto the bed, and mattress springs pinged at the onslaught.

Fascinated, Harry ran his fingers over the embossed snake, now the size of his head. The diary was well cared for, but showed signs of years of use. Mysterious things protruded from between the pages, which changed colour in blocks, as if Draco had added more pages as the previous ones were used up.

"Wicked!" muttered Ron with relish, flipping opening the diary at random. He and Harry leant in closer and saw...

...the mutilated image of Hermione staring up at them.

Harry and Ron recoiled. Ron's knuckles turned white on the cover, and Harry moaned softly. It was one of Colin Creevy's photographs, taken during dinner at the Yule Ball in Fourth Year and Spellotaped into the diary. Hermione was wearing her blue, floaty dress, and her hair was smoothed back into an elegant knot. But Draco had drawn devil's horns, a moustache, long fangs, and beard on her, in green ink. The Hermione in the photograph was trying to duck out of the way of the graffiti, but it followed her. After a few seconds, she gave up and stared resignedly out of the photograph at Harry and Ron, the horns coming to rest on her forehead.

Ron was lost for words, and Harry tried to rub out the graffiti with his sleeve, making Hermione duck and squeal, but the horns and fangs stayed put.

"Doesn't think much of her, does he?" Harry said, pointing at the caption, 'MUDBLOOD!' "I wonder if Hermione would have been so keen to stay with Draco outside Hogwarts, just now, if she'd known he'd done this to her photo?"

Ron still didn't seem capable of speech, but when Harry started flicking through the diary, he raised a hand in protest, as if he wanted Harry to stop. Harry ignored him and kept going. It was more like a scrapbook than a diary. The photograph of Hermione wasn't the only thing Draco had Spellotaped inside. Harry flicked past magazine articles, newspaper headlines, and chocolate frog cards. But there was a certain theme to everything Draco had Spellotaped in...

"Me," said Harry. "Draco has been collecting articles about me." He pointed to the Rita Skeeter article, where she'd alleged Harry still cried about his parents. The words were underlined, and below, Draco's overly neat handwriting recorded how he'd read the article aloud to the Slytherins in their common room, and they'd all laughed themselves sick.

"I've never seem Potter cry," admitted the green writing below the article. "Perhaps I should watch him more closely? It would be really funny to watch..." Harry felt his stomach churn.

"It looks like Draco's collected every article ever printed about you, Harry," said Ron, finally finding his voice again, as Harry continued to flick through the diary. "YOU don't even collect your own articles like that."

"I prefer to pretend they don't exist," said Harry grimly, passing over an article he'd not been previously aware of, which informed him he must be a Dark wizard because he was a Parselmouth and brooded over the horrible things he might have been doing to the other students at Hogwarts. Draco appeared to have agreed completely with the article, and had even ticked off the things Harry had done to him.

"I'd forgotten what Draco used to be like," admitted Ron, frowning at the diary.

"IS like," Harry insisted miserably. "If it weren't for the Vow..." He pointed to another article, torn from the Daily Prophet. The headline read, 'MINISTRY OF MAGIC EMPLOYEE SCOOPS GRAND PRIZE'. Underneath was a picture of the Weasley family on holiday in Egypt. Draco had scribbled nasty comments about Mrs Weasley's weight, Mr Weasley's bald patch, Ron's freckles and had gloated at length about the fact that Harry must have been spending his summer holidays alone.

"He hates us," whispered Harry. "He truly hates all of us. Especially me..." He gagged. His mouth was filling up with saliva and he had an overpowering urge to be sick.

Ron stared at him with concern, and abruptly slammed the diary shut.

With a yelp of pain, Harry yanked his hand out from the closed book and sucked on his pinched fingers. "What did you do that for, Ron?" he snapped.

"I'm sorry, Harry. Reading Draco's diary was a really bad idea. Let's go and get Hagrid and get out of here," said Ron. He ran his hands down the spine of the diary and it shrank. Then he quickly dropped it into his robe pocket and started to get up. He stopped when Harry rested a hand on his upper arm.

"Ron, give it back," said Harry quietly, but there was an undertone of warning to his voice.

"No," muttered Ron, his cheeks going pink. " I won't let you sit here and torture yourself reading this stuff. Let's go and get Hagrid, then go see Hermione and Draco. We should be talking to them, not brooding here."

"I was reading the diary, Ron. Give it back," growled Harry, as if Ron hadn't spoken.

Scooting back a bit from Harry, Ron said: "No way." But he looked a little frightened.

"Give it to me!" With a cry of fury, Harry dived at Ron's pocket. Ron grabbed his arms and they fought. Ron was much taller than Harry, but Harry was quicker and stronger. With both of them yelling at the tops of their voices, Harry forced Ron down and managed to get one hand into his pocket. He must have stroked the spine accidentally, for Ron's pocket split, and the diary grew to full size, pressing down on Ron's chest and making him gasp for breath. He slid it off, and seized one end. Harry grabbed the other, and they were engaged in a full-scale tug-of-war, complete with loud swearing, when there was a meow near the door.

Wheeling around, Harry saw Mrs Norris staring at them, drawn by the sound of fighting, or perhaps by the presence of the only two people in Hogwarts, apart from staff and house elves, that she could spy on and report to Filch. She certainly had something to report now. Harry saw the bandage on her tail, as she spun around and whisked away.

Ron stopped fighting at once. "Great, Harry! Now we're going to have Filch coming in to tell us off," he grumbled, surrendering the diary.

Harry wrapped his arms around it, feeling more ashamed than victorious. "Good," he said. "I wanted to speak to Filch away from Madam Pince anyway. Pince could be dangerous, if she's really a Death Eater, but Filch is just a harmless squib."

"You haven't got any proof that Madam Pince is really Eileen Prince," grumbled Ron, rubbing his arms and looking at Harry crossly.

He was right, Harry knew, and he wracked his brains, wondering what proof he could come up within the couple of minutes before Filch arrived. Suddenly, a wonderful idea occurred to him. "I think I can find proof," he said. He got to his feet, put the diary down and walked towards Draco's trunk. Ron seized his chance to grab the diary and Harry said, "Wait!"

"I don't want you to read it any more-"

"I'm not going to read it, I'm going to write in it. Turn to a blank page, Ron."

Ron looked at him doubtfully, then opened the diary at the last page. Harry opened the trunk and peered inside. Dobby's reorganization had made everything very easy to find, and he spotted a quill and a bottle of green ink right away. "Don't you think Irma Pince is a rather strange name?" asked Harry conversationally. He was glad he and Ron weren't fighting any more.

"I thought her name had something to do with pince-nez. You know, those weird glasses that she wears," said Ron, shrugging.

"Maybe. But I've noticed that there's often more than meets the eye to wizarding names. They mean something about the person. Like Sirius Black - his name meant Black Dog Star," said Harry. He paused for a moment, reminiscing about his dear, departed Animagus godfather, who certainly had lived up to his name. "Or they're a scrambled version of their true name. Like Tom Marvolo Riddle became 'I am Lord Voldemort'." He ignored Ron's shudder, sat down next to the diary, dipped the quill and wrote IRMA PINCE on the blank page.

"This is not going to work," said Ron, leaning closer. "There's not enough letters, Harry. You'll never get 'Eileen Prince' out of Irma Pince."

Harry stared at the name. Ron was right. But he had to do something. He scribbled out the R and moved it next to the P. And that was all he needed to do. The answer was staring him in the face and he had all the proof he needed. It had helped that the scribbled out R looked a bit like an apostrophe...

The sound of Filch's wheezing breathing came through the door. More out of habit than necessity, Harry activated his Occlumency and Legilimency and turned his apparently cheerful, twinkling-eyed face towards the caretaker.

"What's all this I hear about fighting? Explain yourselves!" wheezed Filch, glaring at the two teenage boys. His words were angry but his tone was pleased. Harry knew there was nothing Filch liked better than catching and punishing students, even ex-students.

"I think it's more important YOU explain why you're concealing a known Death Eater, Eileen Prince, from the Ministry. I know she's been hiding out here as Irma Pince, the Librarian," said Harry cheerfully. He was pleased to see Filch couldn't have been more floored by this remark, than if Harry had punched him in the face. The caretaker's jaw worked, but no sound came out.

After a few incriminating moments of silence, Filch took refuge in bluster. "How dare you! I've never heard anything so ridiculous! The Hogwarts librarian? A Death Eater? Is this the gratitude we get for letting you into Hogwarts? We won't be letting you in again!" he roared.

But Harry thought he looked more terrified than angry. Sweat was popping out of Filch's forehead, and even without his Legilimency, Harry could tell Filch was lying. "Don't lie to me, Filch," said Harry sweetly. "One word to the Ministry and I could have both you and Prince thrown in Azkaban for the rest of your lives." He could see Ron giving him a rather startled look.

Only Filch's ragged breathing could be heard, for a few moments. "What do you want?" wheedled Filch, his tone oily and subservient.

"The truth," said Harry. Filch looked up, glaring right into Harry's eyes. This was what Harry had been waiting for. He stared into Filch's squinting eyes with his Legilimency...

A tall, majestic wizard, with a long, white beard and hair, dressed in magnificent, embroidered robes, was presiding over a wedding. "Do you, Argus Filch, take Eileen Prince to be your lawfully wedded wife?" asked Dumbledore, beaming from ear to ear. Beside him Filch stood Severus Snape, who was looking uncharacteristically happy, and holding out two gold rings on a cushion. On the other side of Filch stood a woman, who was holding Filch's hand, and it wasn't just her happy expression that made her look like an older, female version of Snape...

Filch broke eye contact and the memory ended. "Irma's not a Death Eater!" he whined insistently. "I know what you want. You want to blackmail us! We don't have a lot of money. I'm just a caretaker and-"

"How dare you!" exclaimed Ron indignantly. "Harry is the Chosen One. He isn't going to blackmail you." But he sounded a little uncertain. "Isn't that right, Harry?"

Filch looked back at Harry, who took the opportunity to plunge into his mind again...

The wound on Severus Snape's leg looked nasty and Filch was handing him bandages. Snape was quivering with anger. "Potter saw my leg!" he snarled, a vein flickering in his temple. "If the boy tells everyone, how will I explain it to Quirrell ... and that THING he's carrying on the back of his head?"

Filch held out a bandage and muttered something soothingly.

But Snape was too furious to listen and he could barely sit still as his stepfather bound his leg. "Harry Potter is JUST like his father. A bully and a trouble-maker through and through..."

When his rush of rage at seeing Snape faded, Harry realised both Filch and Ron were staring at him, waiting for his reply. Filch showed no anger at having his mind read, and Harry realised a squib like him probably couldn't even detect Legilimency being performed, let alone protect his mind against it. "Of course, I'm not going to blackmail you," Harry said coldly. "But you have to convince me that Prince isn't dangerous. Some of the Death Eaters have tortured and murdered hundreds of people. What is Prince doing here at Hogwarts? Waiting for orders from Voldemort to kill school children?"

Filch shuddered at the name and took a step backwards. "No! Never!" he cried out desperately. "She's not a Death Eater-" Harry met his eyes...

Hogwart's library was dark and deserted, apart from the hook-nosed woman with the haunted expression, who was sitting at the library counter and whispering to an ill-favoured man. Neglected cups of tea steamed in front of them. "Toby Snape used to beat me and Severus," whispered Prince to Filch. She kept pausing as she spoke, as if reliving each nightmarish scene. "He's the reason I joined the Death Eaters. After Toby ... I thought all the Muggles were just like him. I wanted revenge..." She looked down at her cup of tea, tears of shame leaking from the corners of her eyes. "But that first day ... we Apparated to a Muggle village. I saw the Dark Lord use the Killing Curse on an old lady ... and I..." For a moment Prince couldn't go on. "She looked like somebody's grandmother, Argus." Prince started to sob, tears running freely down her face now. "The Dark Lord told me to kill her husband ... I couldn't..." Prince broke down completely and buried her face in a white, lacy handkerchief.

Filch patted her hand sympathetically. "There, there," he wheezed. Harry could feel his love and concern

But Prince gripped his hand fiercely and looked up. "I saved him," she said. "I grabbed his arm and Apparated both of us to Hogwarts. Professor Dumbledore was outside ... I begged him to hide the man. I wasn't thinking of myself. But Professor Dumbledore offered to hide me as well, with the Fidelius Charm. I wasn't a killer, he said..." She blew her nose loudly. "Dumbledore is my Secret Keeper. That's why my face changed, when I asked Dumbledore to tell you my real name..."

The dorm reappeared. Harry was shaken by the memory he'd seen. Not a killer - Dumbledore had said that to Draco on the Astronomy Tower. Then Filch's stepson had come running up the stairs...

Harry felt his rage at Snape projecting onto the caretaker. "She WAS a Death Eater, Filch," he stated in a voice that, on the surface, sounded cold and thoughtful. "I KNOW Irma Pince is Eileen Prince. I know she's concealed herself under a veil since Dumbledore's funeral because he was her secret keeper and she was afraid people would recognise her." Thunderous rage was building up inside him. "But that doesn't explain why you both had the gall to turn up for Dumbledore's funeral, when it was Severus Snape who murdered him!"

Filch took a step backwards in alarm, as Harry got up from the bed with his fists clenched. "Dumbledore wasn't as good as Umbridge," Filch babbled, intimidated by Harry's approach. The mention of Umbridge did nothing for Harry's temper. "But I was sorry to see him go-" Filch began. He yelped in terror, as Harry grabbed him by the lapels of his old coat and slammed him against the wall.

"Harry..." said Ron warningly, but Harry wasn't listening.

"How DARE you talk about Albus Dumbledore? You're the stepfather of the man who MURDERED him!" Harry roared. "Prince and Snape may have fooled Dumbledore into thinking they'd changed their ways, but none of you fool me! Not after what happened to Dumbledore! I'll tell the Ministry about you and Prince and they'll haul you both off to Azkaban where you belong!" He spun Filch around and pinioned his arms behind his back. "Ron, hold him while I go and search for Prince!"

"No! It's not right!" wailed Filch despairingly, his mouth muffled by the wall. "Dumbledore wouldn't have wanted us to die in Azkaban. You're making a mistake!"

"Shut up!" Harry shouted, without pity.

Filch was almost sobbing. "I can't go to Azkaban! Oh, if only Eileen had taken up Dumbledore's offer of a new secret keeper..."

Now it was Harry's turn to be floored. His ears rang with what he'd just heard and his grip on Filch's arms loosened, but Filch was too terrorized to move. "Dumbledore offered Prince a new secret keeper?" echoed Harry. His hands dropped off limply off Filch's arms.

Filch flicked his eyes at his captor. Very cautiously, the caretaker turned around and Harry read the memory in his eyes. Dumbledore had indeed offered Prince a new Secret Keeper, a few days before his murder.

"Yes," Filch wheezed, desperate enough to take refuge in the truth. "Dumbledore said Kingsley Shacklebolt would take over from him. But Eileen wanted to trust to disguise. Kingsley wasn't in on all of Dumbledore's plans, and with him as the secret keeper, Eileen would have lost contact with her son forever."

"But ... but ... Dumbledore COULDN'T have known that Eileen Prince was going to need a new secret keeper. Unless..." Harry's voice trailed off.

"Unless Dumbledore KNEW Snape was going to kill him," finished Ron.

oOoOoOo

_**Author's Notes:**__ Yes, it's review-begging time again. Please ... please ... please ... please review! Feedback makes writing so much easier!_

_**Replies To Reviews:**_

_Thanks to the following people for reviewing: A Raven's last song, Rigel7, nordic knowledge goddess, xoxSasukexox, Katharina-B, HecateDeMort, Your Mom Is My Heart, ThePotionsMiss, Lady Ichabod, sasunaru lover, Yellowwolf, Emu Alive and Kicking, demonicange1, CatWriter, NinjaoftheDarkness, reicheruchan, Potter's Wifey, Esgalhothwen, GreenEyedCatDragon, Stefania Mo, Moonsign, AmaranthineAnathema, thrnbrooke, ProperT, Kittendragon, Riku-Rocks, Kit turned Mighty, LunaSky, rekahneko, AngelLuva, _

_Keya127: Thanks for your review. Chapter 9 is the worse offender, as far as fanfic/review reply ratio is concerned. I'd merge some of those earlier chapters, but FF doesn't allow it. In later chapters I made sure the fanfic part massively exceeds the review part. e.g. Chapter 19 is over 8000 words long and only a tiny fraction of that is review reply. I feel I have to put the replies in, because to not reply to people who have made the effort, would be rude. Time I spend fiddling around on FF trying to reply separately to approximately 40-60 reviews per chapter is time I'm not writing, so I put replies at the bottom of the next chapter, so I can write faster. Replying to reviews publicly also saves time because I don't have to answer the same questions over and over again._

_The Earth Mystic: Glad you liked the dream. Dreams are meant to be odd. The impression I got about teenage Snape from his potions book, was he was a bit of Hermione, as far as brains were concerned, and a bit of a Ron, for trouble._

_Melissa: In theory, the ring of fire should appear around Draco's neck when he disobeys, so why didn't it when Draco went to get Nagini against Harry's orders? Perhaps Hermione will know... ;-)_

_Fmh: It's definitely Harry's upbringing that makes him so angry._

_claire2007: Thanks. Ginny's currently dating Dean in this fanfic._

_Mak Felton: Thanks for staying up all night to read. I hope your eyes are okay. _

_catseye348: Thanks! Actually, I intended The Bodyguard to take place a month after the events of HBP. (You can probably see clues to this, where I haven't edited them out. For instance, Harry being considered too young to use magic in the kitchen.) Harry was supposed to be 16 and Draco just turned 17 (his birthday's in June). But someone pointed out 16 wasn't the homosexual age of consent for some countries, so I bumped their ages up to 18 so the story wouldn't be illegal. _


	25. Dead Ferrets

_**Author's Note:**__ Thank you to__ Lana D for the beta job._

oOoOoOo

**The Bodyguard**

**Chapter 25: Dead Ferrets **

Harry felt his knees give way, and he sank into a crouch on the floor of the Slytherin dorm. "Dumbledore knew? He planned his own death?" he whispered.

There was no denying what he'd seen in Filch's mind. The Headmaster's murder had looked spontaneous, but in light of Filch's memory, certain things that hadn't made sense suddenly did. Had Dumbledore frozen Harry, up on the Astronomy Tower, so he couldn't interfere in his scheduled murder? Had Dumbledore begged Snape for death, not mercy?

"I don't know," said Filch. "But Professor Dumbledore DID tell us to be proud of Severus, whatever happened. That's why we went to his funeral." Taking advantage of Harry's confusion, he edged slyly towards the door. Harry noticed, and stood up. Intimidated, Filch took another step backwards. "Can I go now?" he asked, in a quavering voice.

Harry hesitated.

"You're not going to report us, are you? Eileen's a harmless librarian," wheedled Filch, beads of sweat running down his face. Harry sighed with indecision, and ran a hand through his hair. He had memories of being beaten savagely around the head by a Hogwarts library book he'd idly scribbled inside. The Librarian's magic wasn't exactly harmless. But, if Filch's memories were true, Prince had definitely left the Death Eaters and given herself up to Dumbledore before committing any crimes. And her behaviour since her son left Hogwarts, struck Harry as trustworthy. Snape was the leading Death Eater, since murdering Dumbledore, yet Prince had stayed on at Hogwarts, living the thankless life of a Librarian, and not taking advantage of her son's notoriety.

Reluctantly, Harry took a step away from the door. "You can go, I won't tell the Ministry," he said. The caretaker scuttled off immediately, and Harry shouted after his retreating figure, "But I'll be keeping an eye on both of you!"

"Blimey, Harry," said Ron, the moment Filch's footsteps died away. "Maybe Draco was right, and Snape WAS working for Dumbledore when he killed him."

Harry sank down onto the bed, momentarily overcome. He told Ron what he'd seen in Filch's memories. "Strange morning, isn't it?" he said dryly. "The boy I thought loved me is really my enemy, trapped behind the Vow, and the man I thought was my enemy might just be Dumbledore's greatest servant."

"You don't know for sure Draco's your enemy," said Ron awkwardly, levitating the Slytherin's trunk.

Harry got to his feet. "I do, but I don't want to talk about it, Ron. Let's go and see Hagrid and find out what HIS memories have to say about Snape."

oOoOoOo

It was a long walk from the dungeons to the sixth floor. Draco's trunk bobbed behind them, level with their waists. Ron was watching Harry intently, but he didn't seem inclined to be the first to speak.

At length, Harry broke the silence. "We have to free Draco from the Unbreakable Vow," he stated.

"If we can," said Ron. "How do you break something that's unbreakable?" He shrugged helplessly and the trunk wobbled behind him, making the inkbottles inside rattle.

They walked in silence for a few more minutes. "I wonder what it's like to be under an Unbreakable Vow?" Ron wondered. "Maybe underneath, Draco's hating us and swearing at us, but he can't show it on the surface?"

Shuddering, Harry said: "You're probably right." He felt ill at the thought he'd made love to someone who secretly hated him. "YOU were under a Love Potion once," he reminded Ron. "What was it like?"

"Awful," said Ron seriously. "I had no doubt at all that I utterly loved Romilda Vane. Okay, it felt a bit crazy, and when I look back, it was pretty disgusting," Ron made a face. "But at the time I really felt it. The Love Potion crushed my whole personality, and I didn't even realise."

Harry's heart ached. "The Vow must have done that to Draco," he said.

"But Draco didn't HAVE a personality before the Vow, Harry. At least not one I liked!" said Ron, with a grin Harry found rather malevolent.

"Don't joke, Ron," said Harry, seriously. "How would you feel if you were in his place?"

Ron's face fell. "If I were the one under the Vow, I'd want Draco to help me," he said. "Though I wouldn't expect him to - Draco always HATED me." The grin returned. "See what I mean, Harry? No personality!"

Steadfastly ignoring Ron's last words, Harry said, "So we'll help him."

"We'll help him. But Harry, if you free Draco from the Vow, he'll hate you again."

"Better that he hates me, and it's the truth, than he loves me and it's a lie," said Harry miserably.

oOoOoOo

Harry smelled Hagrid's quarters before he saw them: a sharp, pungent aroma of magical animal dung. Hagrid's hut had always been rather fragrant, but it had been open to the breeze and the smell had been able to escape. Trapped here in the depths of Hogwarts, the smell had collected until Harry could practically see it shimmering in the air.

"Don't make sparks with your wand, or we'll have an explosion, Harry," said Ron, in an amused but revolted tone, his voice muffled by the corner of his robe he was holding across his nose and mouth in a desperate attempt to block out the smell.

Harry heard the sound of a door opening. Further down the corridor, Hagrid's wild, shaggy head poked out of his door, his black eyes twinkling amid his hair. "Bin wonderin' when yeh'd come ter see me again. Dobby told me yeh was here, an' helped me clean up a bit," he said.

Harry and Ron looked at each other. This was how Hagrid's quarters smelled when clean?

"Hullo, Hagrid," said Harry, taking shallow breaths. Ron said nothing behind the corner of his robe, but waved his free hand.

"I was jus' goin' out ter feed Buc ... Witherwings. But c'min an' have a cuppa tea, an' tell me what yeh've bin up to. Where's Hermione?" asked Hagrid, stepping away from his door so the Gryffindors could enter.

After a few minutes, in Hagrid's quarters, Harry's nose seemed to have died under the onslaught. Holding his giant-sized mug of tea in both hands, he looked around the room, which was in its usual state of disarray, despite Dobby's cleaning. Pitchforks leaned against the walls, and cages were piled up everywhere, filled with sinisterly rustling straw.

"I thought you were keeping Witherwings in the castle?" Harry asked. The grey hippogriff was nowhere to be seen.

"I was. But Mrs Norris came sniffin' around las' week an' Witherwings bit her. An' Filch went to Professor McGonagall an' she, made me put Witherwings outside. They got it in fer interestin' creatures," said Hagrid indignantly.

"We saw the bandage on Mrs Norris's tail," said Harry.

"She deserved it! Always spyin' on me!" exclaimed Hagrid.

"Maybe Professor McGonagall wanted you to keep Witherwings outside from the beginning?" Ron pointed out. "Maybe she gave you this room in the centre of the castle, when your house burned down, so wouldn't be able to bring your creatures inside?"

"Nah! Professor McGonagall couldn' have wanted that!" said Hagrid, chuckling indulgently at Ron. " Me pets'd miss me! An' it's easy ter get a hippogriff up the stairs. I jus' tuck him under me arm. I offered ter give Professor Firenze a lift up the stairs las' month. But he said he had urgent business elsewhere. He ran off pretty quick, come ter think."

"Witherwings must be happier living outside," said Ron.

"Well, he likes the fresh air," admitted Hagrid.

So do I, thought Harry, wondering if his nose would ever recover.

"So tell me yeh news," said Hagrid eagerly, leaning forward.

Harry gave Hagrid an abbreviated tale of what had been happening, leaving out Filch and Prince, because he'd promised not to tell.

"Yeh welcome ter look at me memories o' Professor Snape, Harry," said Hagrid. "But I can' believe yeh datin' Draco Malfoy. I though' yeh hated each other? He was the kid tha' called Hermione a Mudblood, an' tried ter get Bu ... Witherwings's head cut off! If it wasn' for him, Professor Dumbledore would still be alive an' I'd still have me house."

This was a very unwelcome reminder for Harry. Feeling queasy, he told Hagrid about what had happened at the Wizengamot.

"Unbreakable Vow, eh?" said Hagrid, munching a rock cake that closely resembled a rock. He'd offered one to Harry and Ron, but they'd both declined. "Tha' sounds like Umbridge. Wha' a bitc-" He looked flustered. "I mean woman."

"You can swear in front of us, Hagrid," said Ron, who had lowered the corner of his robe. "We're not students any more."

Hagrid looked embarrassed. "Shouldn' have said that," he said. "'S'not, polite. But I can' believe yeh though' Draco Malfoy loved yeh, Harry. Such a rude kid, he was. Always followin' yeh around, tryin' ter get yeh into trouble."

Harry straightened up suddenly. "I've got to go," he said, putting his giant teacup down on the table. "Bathroom," he added, when Hagrid and Ron looked at him with concern.

"Alrigh'," said Hagrid, looking at Harry doubtfully. "Ron and me'll get Witherwing's food an' meet yeh outside."

Nodding, because he thought he'd be sick if he spoke, Harry rushed from the room.

oOoOoOo

Barely taking stock of his surroundings, Harry dashed into the nearest bathroom. The door banged shut behind him and he grabbed the nearest sink with both hands and leaned over it, hanging his head and squeezing his stinging eyes shut. The porcelain was cold and hard under his fingers and his loud, unsteady breathing echoed. Hot tears burned cheeks and dripped into the basin, as he tried to control his churning stomach.

It was no good. He'd lost the love of his life so far and he couldn't pretend everything was normal. Everything he heard, and everything he saw, reminded him of how badly he'd been fooled, and how much he'd lost or never even had. Trying to regain control, Harry took a deep breath, opened his eyes...

...and swore. The bathroom, reflected in the dirty mirror, was horribly familiar. Here, he'd performed the Sectumsempra Curse on Draco, and seen the Slytherin's bloodstains spreading across the wet floor like crimson flowers. The blood had long since been washed away, but a new cistern gleamed from one of the toilet cubicles. Harry remembered how he'd smashed the old cistern with a Leg-Locker Curse, which had bounced off the wall behind Draco's ear. Draco had been standing just where Harry was standing now, and tears had been streaming down his face too - a face that had contorted with hatred, the moment he'd laid eyes on Harry...

Remembering Draco's demonic expression, as he'd been about to fire off the Cruciatus Curse, Harry felt the full weight of realization crash over him. I'm madly in love with someone who couldn't possibly love me, he thought. On the contrary, Draco HATES me. If I hadn't used Sectumsempra, he would have tortured me into insanity with an Unforgivable Curse, and earned himself a one-way ticket to Azkaban...

The queasiness, which had threatened since he'd spoken to Dobby, caught Harry with a vengeance. Abruptly, he dashed to the toilet with the new cistern and was violently sick. He was still crouched, gagging and miserable, beside the toilet, when he heard a most unwelcome voice from inside the U-bend.

"Harry, is that you?" asked Moaning Myrtle. Harry guessed she was trying to sound flirty, but instead, her muffled, singsong voice sounded taunting. "I've got a message from your boyfriend!" Moaning Myrtle giggled. "He says he loves you..."

Harry choked. The next thing he knew, he was on his feet, and his finger was pressing the button down on the new cistern as far as it would go. There was a squeal from the plumbing, almost inaudible above the flush of water, and Moaning Myrtle was rushing down to the lake, with the contents of the toilet.

Hurrying to the sink, Harry bent over and started washing his face and rinsing his mouth. He glanced into the mirror. To his dismay, he saw the pearly, translucent form of Moaning Myrtle rising up out of the toilet. He ducked down below the level of the mirror, so she couldn't see his tear-stained face.

"You were sick, Harry," said the ghost girl, with evident morbid delight. "What's wrong?"

Harry did not want to think about how Moaning Myrtle knew he'd been sick. "Stomach trouble," he muttered into the sink.

"Have you been POISONED?" whispered Moaning Myrtle dramatically.

I suppose, in a way I HAVE been poisoned, Harry thought. Damn, Umbridge. Damn her to hell. Aloud, he said, "No, of course not." He sensed a chill behind him, as the ghost floated closer.

"Your friend Hermione, and your boyfriend, Draco," Moaning Myrtle giggled childishly. "They sent me to find out why you and Ron are taking so long. I'll go back and tell them you're violently ill, shall I?"

Harry kept his head low. "Don't say that, Myrtle," he said. He sensed Moaning Myrtle leaning over him, trying to get a look at his face, and he placed his hands on either side of the sink and lowered his head between his arms.

"I hope that big, silvery stag has gone," Moaning Myrtle sniffed. "Draco sent me away when it arrived. So, of course, I HAD to go back and peek a few moments later. It was strange. The stag was talking to Draco, in a man's voice. Draco told it he loved you. I'm amazed you and Draco are in love, Harry. I thought you hated each other?"

Harry squeezed his eyes shut.

"But you know what's even more amazing?" Moaning Myrtle went on. "Hermione and Draco actually talking to each OTHER. Draco used to tell me she was a Mudblood, and that he was proud he'd never spoken a civil word to her in his life."

A knife went through Harry's heart. "It's not so strange," he heard himself whisper. "I ordered him to be polite to my friends." Draco's a puppet of the Vow, he thought. He doesn't love my friends ... he hates them ... he doesn't love me ... he hates me ... hates me...

He clenched his hands around the sides of the sink, deafened by the screams of the creature in his chest. The very light in the bathroom was fading...

Beside him, Moaning Myrtle gave an awed gasp. "Harry, what's wrong?"

Harry raised his head. His hands had sunk into the sides of the sink, as if he had involuntarily Transfigured the porcelain into putty. Even as he watched, more porcelain squeezed up between his fingers. He snatched his hands away from the mutilated sink, panting with horror.

But now, Moaning Myrtle had seen his face. "Harry, you've been crying!" she squealed, with miserable joy.

"It's none of your business!" snarled Harry, turning away from her. The bathroom grew darker, as if his pain were drawing in the light.

"Don't cry, Harry ... tell me what's wrong ... let me help you..."

"Leave me ALONE!" screamed Harry. And the room reacted around him, like an extension of his magic. The lights winked on and off overhead, then exploded in a shower of sparks. The tiles on the walls were rattling. One by one, a spider web of cracks ran up each mirror, and then each one exploded, sending tinkling shards of glass into the eerie twilight that now filled the bathroom. Moaning Myrtle let out a deafening scream.

"HARRY POTTER'S GOING MAD IN THE BATHROOM! HE'S SMASHING EVERYTHING!"

The door banged open and an enormous, shadowy figure burst in.

"Harry!" cried Hagrid. "Stop tha'!" Harry found himself being lifted off the floor, and his face pressed into the soft, worn leather of Hagrid's coat. Only Hagrid, of all his friends, would have been uninjured by the uncontained magic Harry was sending out in all directions.

A much smaller, red-headed figure stood by the doorway. "We've got to get him to Draco and Hermione. Quickly!" cried Ron.

Pressed against Hagrid's shoulder, Harry finally let himself go and sobbed, feeling his wild, uncontrolled magic fade, as the half-giant bore him away.

oOoOoOo

"Thanks, Hagrid. You can put me down now," said Harry. The first paroxysm of his grief had faded, and he felt very tired and ashamed of himself. He didn't want Hermione or Draco to see him like this - draped over Hagrid's shoulder like an infant. Besides, Hagrid had a string of dead ferrets around his neck, ready to feed to Buckbeak. Harry was face-to-face with one of them and it was a hideous sight; with glazed eyes and dried blood crusted around its mouth. It made Harry think of Draco dead, though the ferret was brown not white.

Hagrid grunted. "You don' deserve ter be put down," he said. They were walking down the endless main stairwell, and the portraits were gossiping loudly as they went past. "Wha' yeh were doin' in that bathroom weren' dignified. Yeh too powerful an' dangerous ter let yehself lose control, Harry."

Feeling chastened, Harry wriggled out of Hagrid's grip and sat down on his massive shoulder. "I know, and I'm sorry, Hagrid. It won't happen again," he said, firmly. I've been so selfish, he thought. He imagined how Draco, as he'd been at Hogwarts, would have felt about making love to him and he shuddered in sympathy. He'd protect him from THAT! "I should go back and fix the bathroom," he added.

"Let Filch fix it!" said Hagrid with satisfaction, and Harry grinned, despite himself. There was no love lost between the half-giant and the caretaker. He wondered if he should tell Hagrid that Madam Pince was an ex-Death Eater, and Filch knew. But he rejected the notion immediately. Hagrid wouldn't hesitate to have Filch slung into Azkaban.

Ron walked by Hagrid's side, looking up at Harry. "What are you going to do to Hermione, for not telling you about the Vow?" he asked, looking wary.

"I'll hear her side of it," said Harry grimly. "I think I've gone crazy enough, for one day."

Just before the main doors in the Great Hall, Hagrid set Harry down. He could hear Draco talking to Hermione.

"The forty-eighth time, the Muggles took Wendelin the Weird wand and the flames didn't tickle. She burned to death. It's all in The Burning Times by Facina Memoria. Have you read it?"

"No. That's a Ministry-banned book. But it sounds like it will help me understand why pure-bloods hate Muggles so much," answered Hermione, in a fascinated tone.

"I can lend you a copy," said Draco.

Harry thrust the doors open. "You don't have to be polite to my friends, even if they're not being stupid, Draco," he said. He had only taken one step outside, when he was grabbed from both sides.

"Harry!" cried Draco and Hermione together. Both of them spoke so fast Harry had trouble understanding them.

"Moaning Myrtle said you'd been poisoned!" cried Draco, his face even paler than usual. He'd put the magically patched jumper and t-shirt back on, and the jacket was draped over his arm. Even knowing about the Vow, Harry couldn't take his eyes off him. He was gorgeous.

"She said you were crying!" exclaimed Hermione, scanning his tearstained face.

"Then you went crazy and blew up the bathroom. What happened, Harry? Was it Pince?" Draco cupped Harry's face in both hands. Harry's skin tingled at his touch, and he felt a pang of loss. "You HAVE been crying," Draco murmured. His eyes were bright with worry.

"What happened, Harry?" asked Hermione. She glanced at Hagrid, who gave her a serious nod.

"We've been stuck out here worried sick," added Draco.

"I wanted to go in after you, but I was afraid Pince would come after Draco," said Hermione.

"Pince? The Librarian?" asked Hagrid curiously.

"I haven't been poisoned," said Harry, gently lifting Draco's hands away from his face, and fighting the urge to hold them. "And I'll tell you about Pince later. She wasn't the one who ... upset me."

"So who upset you?" asked Draco breathlessly. He reached towards Harry, who took a step back. Draco blinked.

"Dobby," admitted Harry.

"My old house elf?" asked Draco. "What did he tell you?"

"What the Unbreakable Vow means." Harry looked into his boyfriend's brilliant, grey eyes. "Draco, I'm so sorry. It's my fault. I never intended you'd be bound to me, at the Wizengamot, but that's what happened."

Hermione gasped, and clapped both hands to her mouth, in such a suspicious way that Harry knew she had known what the Vow meant all along.

Draco merely frowned, and looked a little puzzled. "I thought the Vow had gone," he said. "I used to feel it, around my neck, as though it were about to strangle me. But I haven't felt it in days..." His voice trailed off.

"You love me," said Harry painfully. "That shows that the Vow is still working. Dobby said it bound you to me: heart, body and soul. What you feel for me isn't real-"

"The Vow's a Love Potion?" interrupted Draco, with the tiniest hint of scorn. "Has Professor Slughorn's potions prince already forgotten? Love Potions aren't permanent. I love you and it's been days since Umbridge cast the Vow. A Love Potion would have worn off by now, not gotten stronger-"

"The Vow isn't a cheap Love Potion from Weasley's Wizard Wheezes," Harry said despairingly. "It's a Ministry-strength mind-control spell. And it's permanent!"

Draco fell silent, grey eyes looking uncertain. He reached out to Harry, then froze, withdrew his hand, and stared at it, as thought seeing it for the first time.

Harry couldn't bear to look at him. "I know you knew what the Vow meant, Hermione," he said, turning towards her with only the slightest hint of accusation in his voice. Ron took a protective step closer to his girlfriend.

"I knew," said Hermione tonelessly, staring at the ground as if in remorse.

"Why ... why didn't you warn us?" Harry breathed.

Hermione lifted her head and looked Harry straight in the eye. "You even need to ask?" she said bitterly. "What was the first thing Ron did when he saw Draco? He tormented him about those dress robes! How could I have trusted either of you with the knowledge Draco was your slave forever?"

Draco closed his eyes.

"I thought it best to say nothing and see if some respect developed between you, over time," Hermione said.

"A lot more than respect developed," said Harry.

"Yes," said Hermione. "It surprised me. The moment you all started ... behaving yourselves ... you fell in love with Draco, Harry, and Ron became his friend."

"So Harry really loves me? It's nothing to do with the Vow?" asked Draco, opening his eyes.

"The Vow only affects you, Draco," said Hermione. The Slytherin hung his head, and his white-blond hair fell across his face.

"I still think the Virginity Trap was cool, Draco," said Ron suddenly. "I want to be your friend, Vow or no Vow, and I want to free you, if I can." He offered Draco his hand, and the Slytherin, looked up in surprise, and shook it.

"I want to free you too. But I don't know if it's possible," said Hermione.

Draco gave her hand a squeeze as well. "Thanks," he said softly.

Harry stared at Hermione. "Why did you help Draco, by not telling us about the Vow?" he asked, with a touch of incredulity. "You owed him nothing. He did nothing but call you names all through school."

Hermione gave a loud 'ha!' of laughter. "You never listened to me, Harry," she said. "How many times did I tell you to ignore Draco when he called me names? I didn't CARE what he called me. In fact..." she added hesitantly. "Sometimes, I found him ... quite ... amusing..."

Draco squirmed, and his cheeks turned faintly pink. Hermione winked at him.

Harry knew there was going to be trouble, the moment he opened his mouth, but he couldn't let things rest. He remembered Draco's diary. Surely all that pent up hatred couldn't have disappeared so quickly? He could still see the Vow at work, in Draco's friendliness towards Hermione and Ron. "The mutilated photo of you in Draco's diary wasn't so amusing, Hermione," he stated boldly.

"Wha'?" roared Hagrid and glared at Draco.

Hermione looked shocked, and Draco's cheeks darkened to crimson. "You read my diary?" The Slytherin was horrified. He seemed to have forgotten he'd told Harry they had no secrets. "How dare you? I wrote ... private things..."

"Yeah, we know. We read them," said Ron.

Draco's mouth opened and shut like a goldfish. Finally, he gave Harry and Ron a mortified look, crossed his arms and stormed off towards the gate. Hermione frowned at them too, and followed him.

Harry watched them go. He could hear a distant noise, somewhere between a whinny and a roar, coming from the vicinity of Forbidden Forest.

"Bu ... Witherwings, is hungry," said Hagrid. "'Spect those two'll catch up if we go an' feed him." He didn't seem keen be around Draco, but at that point, neither was Harry.

oOoOoOo

Pumpkin vines twined around the burned shell of Hagrid's hut. Buckbeak stalked among them, occasionally snapping at an insect. He lifted his head as Hagrid and Harry approached, and trotted eagerly towards them. Harry had forgotten how huge the hippogriff was. He bowed respectfully, and Buckbeak bowed back, and started tugging at the dead ferrets slung around Hagrid's neck.

The half-giant chuckled affectionately. "Loves his food, doesn' he?" he said, and threw a ferret. The hippogriff leaped off clawed front feet, caught the ferret with a snap of his beak, and swallowed it in one gulp, his throat stretching as the ferret went down. Then he looked at Hagrid, hungry for more.

Harry glanced at Hermione and Draco. They were standing by the gate, deep in conversation. As Harry watched, they turned and started walking towards the hut.

Ron was sitting on Draco's trunk, casually swinging his legs. "So Snape and Dumbledore used to go to the Forbidden Forest and talk all the time?"

"Tha's right," said Hagrid, throwing another ferret, which Buckbeak caught with a loud snap. "Used ter see them in there, when I was doin' me rounds."

"Why the forest?" Harry wondered.

"Didn' want ter be seen, I s'pose," said Hagrid. "No one goes ter the forest. 'Cept me." He threw another ferret, a little too high this time, and the hippogriff flapped his wings and took off a few metres to catch it. "Well done, Buckbeak!" shouted Hagrid proudly.

"Buckbeak?" echoed Draco waspishly, behind them. "I thought Buckbeak escaped? You mean that hippogriff is the same one that attacked me?"

Hagrid looked stricken. He flushed under his bushy hair, and struggled for words. "I mean', well done, Witherwings!" he said.

Draco looked unconvinced. "Rubbish," he said. He put his hands on his hips and stared at Buckbeak and Hagrid with fury and revulsion. "That hippogriff is a menace! It was supposed to have been executed!"

"Buckbeak's no' a menace!" said Hagrid angrily, apparently forgetting he was supposed to be protecting the hippogriff's identity. "'E never woulda hurt yeh, if yeh hadn' bin rude ter him firs'!"

Shaking his head petulantly, Draco said, "Buckbeak was going to attack me, anyway. It wouldn't have mattered what..." He took a sharp, indrawn breath, as the hippogriff focused hungry, orange eyes on him, whinnied, reared skittishly and trotted towards him.

"See! He jus' wants ter be friends with yeh," said Hagrid.

Draco backed away, shaking his head, his face a mask of terror. "Get him away from me!" he cried in a panic.

Hagrid threw another ferret, and as Buckbeak chomped into it, still glaring hungrily down at Draco, it was suddenly blindingly obvious to Harry why Buckbeak had attacked Draco all those years ago. Could the hippogriff tell Draco's Patronus was a ferret? As Buckbeak took another threatening step forwards, Harry realised the answer was yes.

"He's going to kill me!" yelled Draco, holding an arm protectively above his head.

It occurred to Harry that Draco was right. Though the Slytherin's physical form was human, his magical form, in hippogriff terms, was lunch. Harry remembered and marvelled at the way Draco, in Third Year, had summoned up enough courage to pat Buckbeak, an animal he must have sensed wanted to kill and eat him. And all because a certain school rival had patted the hippogriff first, and the Slytherin didn't want to look a coward by comparison. Harry remembered Draco's scornful appraisal of Buckbeak - "I bet you're not dangerous at all" - and realised it was the bravado of a terrified boy, who had the strange intuition he was about to be eaten. No wonder he had gloated so much at the hippogriff's imminent execution...

Harry dashed in front of Draco and shielded him with his body. The hippogriff backed up a step, with a whinny that was more like a growl, and then tried to circle around, to get at the Slytherin. "Hagrid, Buckbeak IS going to kill Draco. Tie him up," Harry ordered desperately. The hippogriff loomed over both of them, clicking his sharp, hooked beak in frustration.

"'E's no'," insisted Hagrid, looking puzzled. "All Draco has ter do is bow."

'Bow to death!' Harry remembered Voldemort's words and shuddered. "Bowing won't help," said Harry. He pushed Draco, who was frozen with horror, aside just as Buckbeak snapped at him. The razor sharp beak clashed together just over their heads. Harry raised his voice, "I'll explain later, Hagrid. Just tie Buckbeak up NOW! PLEASE!"

The hippogriff reared up, lashing out with steely talons...

oOoOoOo

_**Author's Notes:**__ I think this would be a good place to stop and beg for reviews. Forget to review, and you know what will happen to the boys! Bwahahahaha! ;-)_

_**Replies to reviews:**_

_Thank you to the following people for reviewing: Kira, Morrigan, sasunaru lover, txcalbud, Ripuku, Sinful Sakura, ThePotionsMiss, willa, Fmh, bug0112, NinjaoftheDarkness, HecateDeMort, thrnbrooke, Moyima, Die Kikyo Die, LunaSky, Potter's Wifey, The Earth Mystic, Mak Hertz (who was Mak Felton), Yellowwolf, ProperT, Yukari, Crowley Black, poofsizzle, and Kristin._

_Emu Alive and Kicking, Kit turned Mighty, Moonsign and silversongs: Thanks! The diary will definitely turn up again, but maybe not in the way that you think. And thanks for saying I write like JKR, Kit! _

_Melissa: Hermione never wanted to hurt Harry, but she figured hurting Harry a little, by not telling him the whole truth, would be better than hurting Draco a lot, by letting Ron and Harry torture him early on._

_YourMomIsTooLazyToLogIn: Thanks! Yes. Irma Pince, becomes I'm a Prince. A bit obvious, but I suppose she felt very safe, with Dumbledore as her Secret Keeper._

_Katharina-B: Harry's certain the Vow has changed Draco's personality completely. Whether he's right remains to be seen! ;-)_

_fragonknight01: Ah, yes, exactly! Like mother, like son. Snape and Prince were both unpleasantly obsessive about their Hogwarts jobs. _


	26. Hagrid's Memories

_**Author's Note:** Thank you to Lana D and Chase Cassie Chase for the beta reading._

oOoOoOo

**The Bodyguard**

** Chapter 26: Hagrid's Memories**

Muttering and looking mutinous, Hagrid grabbed the rearing hippogriff by the collar, and pushed him down before the steely talons could strike. Pulling a coil of rope out of one of his voluminous pockets, he looped it through Buckbeak's collar and dragged the hippogriff, which strained to get at Draco, towards the charred ruins of his hut.

With a moan of relief, Draco threw both arms around Harry's waist from behind. He was trembling, and he whispered petulantly into Harry's ear, "Thanks, Harry. Merlin, Hagrid scares the life out of me! He always has ... the barbarian half-giant with his killer monsters-"

Harry cut him off. "Draco," he whispered back. "You don't know Hagrid at all. He's the kindest person I've ever met. He's kind to dangerous magical creatures most people would kill on sight, and he's being incredibly kind to you."

"To me?" Draco was incredulous.

"Yes! Use your eyes! Those ruins over there used to be Hagrid's house! He's homeless, living in a borrowed room in the castle, because of you," said Harry, glad that the half-giant was some distance away among the pumpkin vines, and surely couldn't hear. "And Dumbledore was practically a father to him. But have you heard Hagrid mention his house, or Dumbledore to you? He's even saving you from Buckbeak, and you nearly had Buckbeak executed."

There was a long pause. The hippogriff was tossing his head, and whinnying with insulted pride. Hagrid stroked his mane, as he tied him to a post.

"You're right. I'm sorry," whispered Draco, and leaned his chin on Harry's shoulder. His arms tightened around Harry's waist and his body pressed against Harry's back. The embrace felt so natural, and so good, but Harry remembered the Vow and his shoulders stiffened, even while another part of him softened. He extricated himself from Draco's arms and the Slytherin looked hurt.

Hagrid lumbered back. "I still don' understand why Draco can' jus' bow," he grumbled. But he seemed to be in a slightly better mood than Harry had expected.

"Do you know what a Patronus is, Hagrid?" asked Harry.

"I do. Spiri' guardians is wha' they are. Yeh've go' one shaped like a stag," the half-giant answered.

"Draco's Patronus is shaped like a ferret," explained Harry.

"With human eyes," said Hermione. Now that it was safe, she and Ron had walked closer.

Hagrid shrugged, "So wha' if Draco's Patronus's a ferre'?" he muttered, rather gruffly.

"But don't you see?" asked Harry, in an impassioned voice. "Hippogriffs EAT ferrets."

Hermione clapped her hand to her mouth.

"Even if Draco HAD bowed to Buckbeak, it wouldn't have made any difference. Buckbeak would have tried to kill and eat him just the same," said Harry. The hippogriff was still straining to get to Draco, but the post held.

Hagrid's mouth formed an 'O' of amazement. "Didn' think o' tha'," he admitted.

"There are some other things you should know about Draco," said Harry. He told Hagrid about his rescue from the Death Eater cells, by Draco, and the Slytherin's battle with Voldemort outside the Headquarters. Then he explained how Draco had been forced to breach Hogwart's defences, years ago, because Voldemort had threatened to kill his whole family. Finally, he told Hagrid what had happened to Draco's mother.

Hagrid began to sniffle and pulled a dirty handkerchief the size of a towel out of his pocket. "Los' me Mum too. But no' as horr'bly," he sobbed. "Yeh poor thing, 'm so sorry!"

"Thanks. I'm sorry too-" Draco began, nervously twisting the silver ring on his finger and clearly bewildered by Hagrid's sudden mood change. He yelped with shock when Hagrid grabbed him in a sympathetic hug. Harry caught a glimpse of his pale, panicking face under Hagrid's elbow, along with several dead ferrets the half-giant had forgotten he was wearing.

"Could I please look at your memories of Snape now, Hagrid?" asked Harry, hoping to separate them before Draco said something he regretted.

The half-giant released Draco, who looked dizzy from being squeezed. "If yeh wan'. Wha' do yer wan' ter look a' them fer?" he asked curiously.

Harry wondered how much he should tell Hagrid. He watched Draco sidle away from the half-giant, shrink his trunk, and slip it into his pocket. At length Harry replied, "I suspect Dumbledore knew he was going to be killed by Snape. He may have even planned it." Both Hermione and Hagrid stared at him with wide eyes. Harry was astonished to see Hagrid liked the idea.

"Professor Dumbledore planned his death?" Hagrid asked thoughtfully, scratching his beard. "Tha' sounds like more him. Organised, Dumbledore was, an' he always knew wha' was goin' on. Never seemed righ' tha' he was taken by su'prise."

"I'm almost certain he wasn't," said Harry. "But I need to look at your memories for proof, Hagrid."

"Go 'head. Professor Dumbledore, used ter look in me head some'imes, an' I know wha' ter expec'," said Hagrid good-naturedly. He sat down, until his eyes were on level with Harry's, and crossed his tree-trunk thick legs.

Harry stared into Hagrid's beetle-black eyes. "Think of Snape and Dumbledore," he said. Legilimens, he thought, and the world disappeared.

The Great Hall of Hogwarts was decked in green branches and there wasn't a student in sight. An orchestra on the podium played fast music. Amid the throng of adult guests, an enormous, hairy half-giant, a greasy-haired man, and a tartan-clad elderly lady sat at a table, nursing Firewhiskeys and watching the dance floor, where a tall wizard, with long, white hair and beard, was performing an energetic dance, somewhere between a Scottish reel and tap dancing, with a lady who was wearing sparkly, high heeled shoes.

"Professor Dumbledore KNOWS he shouldn't dance after drinking Firewhiskey," said Professor McGonagall severely. "Remember last year's Midsummer Ball, when he spontaneously Transfigured everyone else on the dance floor into baboons?"

"A' leas' he's no' pole dancin' any more," chuckled Hagrid.

"We all know who Transfigured that pole onto the dance floor," said McGonagall severely. She narrowed her eyes at Snape, whose face had suddenly become unreadable.

A small baboon, wearing Madam Rosmerta's sparkly, high-heeled shoes, scuttled past. The teachers groaned...

Harry surfaced from Hagrid's memory. "What did you see?" asked Ron. Harry told them and soon his friends were laughing.

"Professor Dumbledore threw good parties," said Hagrid reminiscently. "Bu' they were kind o' messy, wha' with all the baboons. 'E did cheetahs one year..."

"It's funny, Hagrid, but you have to admit it's not much help," said Hermione, after they'd stopped laughing.

"Sorry," said Hagrid. "Harry told me ter think abou' Professor Snape an' Professor Dumbledore, an' tha's wha' came up."

"Do you have any memories of them fighting in the Forbidden Forest?" asked Harry.

Hagrid looked thoughtful and nodded. "I was tryin' no' ter listen. They was havin' a private cha'..." He stared into Harry's eyes, and Harry thought the word, Legilimens. Again, the world disappeared.

Being a half-giant, stalking fearlessly and silently, through the misty, midnight forest, was nothing like being human. Through Hagrid's senses, Harry could see in the dark, he could hear for hundreds of metres around, and he knew nothing in the forest - a herd of centaurs, a pack of werewolves or a cluster of Acromantulas - could beat him in a fight. Harry had a flash of understanding why Hagrid exposed his students to such dangerous magical creatures - to Hagrid they weren't dangerous. The slash of a hippogriff's steely talons could hurt the half-giant, but not kill him. A dragon breathing fire was interesting, not deadly. Full humans were vulnerable in ways Hagrid couldn't even comprehend.

But Hagrid was steadfastly ignoring the two familiar voices in the clearing up ahead. He loved and trusted the owners of those voices, and he knew they had come there, as they always had before, to talk privately.

Suddenly the voices rose in an argument, and to his incredulous horror, Hagrid saw Snape shaking Dumbledore by the shoulders. The half-giant's jaw dropped and he listened, despite himself. Though meetings in the forest between the two professors were a regular occurrence, they had never fought.

"You're taking me too much for granted. I WON'T DO IT!" screamed Snape, his face wild and demented.

"I ORDER YOU TO DO IT, SEVERUS!" For the first time Hagrid and Harry had ever seen, Dumbledore was shouting in a rage, and Snape's hands dropped from limply away from the Headmaster's shoulders. After a moment, Dumbledore mastered himself, and said in far more controlled but equally firm voice, "You agreed to do it and that's final. I want you to keep investigating the students in your house, Severus-" Then, the words became indistinguishable again, as Hagrid forced himself not to listen...

Harry released his Legilimency and the world came back. "I saw Snape and Dumbledore arguing, but I couldn't tell what they were arguing about, Hagrid."

Hagrid looked embarrassed. "Seemed rude ter listen a' the time. So I didn'."

"I think your memory is intact, but I can't access it properly through Legilimency." Harry sighed. "If only we had a Pensieve."

"A Pensieve? Dumbledore had one o' those," said Hagrid.

"Yes, I know," said Harry frustratedly. "But he kept it up in the Headmaster's office and that's all locked up-"

"'S'not there now," interrupted Hagrid. "The Pensieve belonged ter Dumbledore, no' Hogwarts. When Dumbledore died, most o' his stuff wen' ter his brother, Aberforth."

"You mean the Pensieve is at the Hog's Head?" asked Ron.

"Ough'a be," Hagrid replied, getting to his feet. "Le's go ter Hogsmeade an' find ou'. Dumbledore was really firm with Professor Snape an' I wan' ter know why."

oOoOoOo

Soon, the gruesome, battered sign of the Hog's Head pub - a severed, bloodstained wild boar's head - was creaking above their heads.

"Not what I expected," said Draco, staring up at the sign in disgust. He was about to push the door open, when Hagrid put a massive hand on his shoulder.

"Yeh should cover yeh face, before yeh go in," he said, pulling a torn, rainbow-striped woollen scarf out of his pocket and dropping it over Draco's head.

Draco lifted the scarf and curled his lip. "Why do I have to wear this?"

"Bes' Aberforth don't see yeh face," answered Hagrid. "Not after wha' happened ter his brother."

"Good idea, Hagrid," said Harry. He helped Draco wrap the gaudy scarf around his head, until only the Slytherin's irate, grey eyes could be seen.

"I'm going to look a right suspicious prat wearing this," Draco muttered, his voice muffled by the scarf.

"Trus' me, yeh won'," said Hagrid.

"You haven't been to the Hog's Head before, have you Draco?" asked Ron.

Draco shook his rainbow-striped head.

"You won't stand out," said Harry. "If anything, the rest of us will stand out because we HAVEN'T covered our faces." He pushed the creaking door open, and they all followed him into the small, gloomy pub.

The Hog's Head had not improved, since Harry had been there last. If anything, it was even dirtier and darker than before. Harry looked around, but didn't recognise any of the shadowy figures sitting near the wall. The man in the grey bandages was back at the bar, sipping Firewhiskey. He glared at them suspiciously as they crossed the small room. Harry ignored him.

Aberforth Dumbledore sidled out of a back room as the quartet and Hagrid approached the bar. He was tall and thin, like his brother, and his long hair and beard were grey, but his face held none of Dumbledore's kindness. He stared at them unwelcomingly, polishing a stained glass with a dirty rag, and his eyes flicked over them, pausing on Harry's scar.

"Le' me do the talkin', okay? I come here all the time," said Hagrid to the quartet. He turned to Aberforth. "Hullo," he said heartily. "We was wonderin' if we could borrow Albus's Pensieve fer a tick."

Heads turned. "Not so loud," muttered Draco nervously. Aberforth's pale, blue eyes, so like, yet unlike, his brother's, focused on him suspiciously, then flicked to Hagrid, as if asking for an introduction, or perhaps, an explanation.

"This is me cousin, Henry, from outta town," invented Hagrid quickly. Harry tried to keep a straight face.

"Please to meet you, sir," said Draco uncomfortably. He held out his right hand.

The barman stared coldly at the hand, but did not take it, and Draco let it drop to his side, frowning behind the scarf. Harry frowned too, and stepped closer to Draco. Aberforth's eyes flicked to Harry again, then he glared at Hagrid. "Pensieve's out the back," he said, at length. Irritably, he pushed a little gate open, so they could all walk behind the bar.

The back room was even dirtier than the front room. They dodged around dusty cases of Firewhiskey, and bottles of Butterbeer, leaking their sticky contents onto the stone floor. In the centre was a large table, and sitting on the table, surrounded by dusty tankards lying on their sides, was the Pensieve, casting spangles of light on the cobwebbed ceiling.

Harry pulled out his wand, and realised, at the same moment, that though he knew how to view memories in a Pensieve, he didn't how to extract them from someone's head. "Excuse me, are you any good at removing memories? We need one of Hagrid's," he asked Aberforth, who'd been just about to walk back into the bar.

With an insufferable air of charity, Aberforth turned back from the door, pulled out his own wand and tugged the wispy memory from Hagrid's head. He dunked it into the Pensieve with an ungracious flourish, and stalked out of the room, without a backward look. The door banged shut behind him.

"Have any of you ever used a Pensieve before?" asked Harry, stirring the misty basin with his wand. The silvery substance inside began to swirl rapidly. He heard people muttering no, around him, but he didn't take his eyes off the basin, as the memory took form. Now he could see the Forbidden Forest, as though he were flying high above it. "Looks like the right memory," Harry murmured to himself. He looked up at his friends. "You need to bend over the bowl, until your nose touches the liquid. Then you'll fall into the memory."

"Can we all go in there?" asked Hermione, looking at the Pensieve with curiosity, then looking around, as if wondering if they'd all fit.

"I don't see why not," replied Harry. "You first, Hagrid."

oOoOoOo

Dumbledore and Snape were sitting on a rotten log, in the middle of a clearing in the Forbidden Forest. From their companionable silence, and the way the memory Hagrid, walking nearby, strove to ignore them, it was easy to see that their meetings were a frequent event, though they hardly spoke a word to each other in public.

Snape was working the corks out of a couple of fancy, mauve glass bottles, and when they came loose, with a soft pop, he handed one bottle to Dumbledore, who took a swig of the dark liquid inside and smiled.

"Trust a ex-Potions Master to brew the best Double Chocolate Stout," said Dumbledore contentedly. "Delicious, as always, Severus."

"With your sweet tooth, Headmaster, it's a wonder you've got any teeth left in your head after living a hundred and fifty years," said Snape. His tone was snide, but pleased.

Dumbledore raised his bottle in a toast. "To the business at hand..."

Snape raised his bottle as well. "To the business..."

Their bottles clinked together, and they drank. Then Dumbledore sighed, and rested his bottle on his lap. "Severus, you've known the boy all his life. How ... enthusiastically ... will he try to complete the task Voldemort has set him? Will I be walking down a dark corridor, one night, and find the boy lying in wait to kill me?"

Snape shuddered, perhaps at the name. "Very unlikely, Headmaster," he sneered, resting his bottle on the log. "That would require a Gryffindor's lack of subtlety, and the boy is, mercifully, Slytherin through and through."

"I'm relieved. I didn't want to have to shoot one of my own students down," said Dumbledore, ignoring the slur against his house. He took another swig of Double Chocolate Stout, clearly in a happier frame of mind.

"But the boy is getting increasingly desperate," said Snape softly. He got to his feet and started to pace, his robes sweeping the dry leaves of the forest floor. "I can confirm that the poison and the necklace were his."

"I thought as much," said Dumbledore sadly.

Snape paused in his pacing. "Weak attacks!" he whispered. "The poison and the necklace had only the faintest chance of succeeding. Considering I have seen flashes of brilliance, on the occasions the boy cares to use his brain, I believe his heart isn't in it, Headmaster. He's not a killer."

Dumbledore nodded, but didn't look surprised.

Resuming his pacing, Snape said silkily: "At first, he relished the idea of being a Death Eater, and killing in the Dark Lord's name. He wanted to take revenge on those he thought responsible for putting his father into Azkaban."

"It was Voldemort, if you really get down to it, who put his father into Azkaban."

Snape shuddered. "I could hardly say that to him, Headmaster. Besides, you know what mind games the Dark Lord plays with new inductees..."

Dumbledore frowned and nodded.

"But now, I believe the reality of being a Death Eater is sinking in. He is caught between an impossible and shameful assassination, and the murder of his entire family, should he fail. Indeed, I believe he is starting to realise that it was the annihilation of his family that the Dark Lord intended all along."

"Riddle's Diary," murmured Dumbledore, staring at the ground.

"Precisely. The Dark Lord doesn't forgive. The boy's father is much safer in Azkaban," said Snape.

Noticing the tension in Snape's voice, Dumbledore looked up. "The boy's parents are your best friends," he stated compassionately.

Snape make a jerking motion with his head, but didn't speak. His robes billowed around him, as he paced, as graceful as a black panther in a cage.

"Has the boy asked you for help?"

"No," said Snape, his voice full of scorn. "He thinks I want to steal his glory. He wishes to prove himself."

There was silence for a moment. "The boy always struck me as someone with low self-esteem, Severus," said Dumbledore.

"Abysmally low, Headmaster. He constantly compares himself to his father or Harry Potter, and always finds himself wanting." In one, sleek movement, Snape sat back down on the log.

"Harry Potter? Surely he's in the wrong house for that?" asked Dumbledore, chuckling in amazement.

"If only. He's obsessed. You should hear what I have to listen to," Snape's voice took on a childish, petulant tone, "Harry Potter this, precious Potter that, snotty Potter won't even speak to me but he's best friends with a Blood Traitor, snobby Potter wouldn't shake my hand, did you see in the paper today what Potter's gotten away with now?" Snape's voice went back to its usual, silky sneer. "The boy nearly committed verbal suicide on the Hogwart's Express, by boasting in public about being a Death Eater, when he guessed Potter was hiding in his carriage."

"Most indiscrete," said Dumbledore, his face set in serious lines. "Who heard him?"

"Apart from Potter, only the boy's friends, and they would never betray him." Snape frowned. "Sometimes, I wish I could perform Silencio on the boy, Headmaster. Or get Potter out of both our sights!"

Dumbledore sighed. "It's a shame they're not friends." He rubbed a finger over his lips. "I seem to recall their parents fought constantly with each other, while they were at Hogwarts. We both know how that changed when they left." Snape's knuckles went white around his bottle. "Maybe, if the boy apologized and controlled his prejudices..." Dumbledore was looking very hard at Snape when he spoke, but Snape was not looking at him.

"Potter would have to control his temper and his own prejudices first," came Snape's contemptuous sneer. "It would require the magical equivalent of a boot to the head for both of them." He took a swig of his stout and glared at the bottle, as though it were at fault.

Dumbledore sighed again. "They're so young," he said, with the sort of sad - state - of - youth - of - today tone only those over a hundred and fifty can manage.

There was silence for a time, as if both men were pondering whether those they were talking about would have a chance to get old. Suddenly, Snape spoke, his voice so soft Harry could hardly hear him.

"I called you here, because I wanted to discuss that promise I made to you, Headmaster."

"Did you?" asked Dumbledore. His voice was still kind and gentle, but his face was suddenly unreadable.

"You take it too much for granted that I will do what you ask. I made an unforgivable error-"

"On the contrary, Severus," interrupted Dumbledore jovially. "Your interactions with the Death Eaters have been sheer genius. You have risen high in Voldemort's esteem, while subtly thumbing your nose at his every order. When Wormtail was installed as your servant, you made him clean your house! You forced the man who betrayed the Potters, murdered Cedric Diggory, troubled you at school, and was sent to your house to spy on you, to fetch your drinks and wait on you hand and foot! Considering your knowledge of Dark Magic, and the things you could have done to Wormtail instead, you showed nothing but class, Severus. Pure class!"

The tiniest smirk crossed Snape's face, and a tinge of colour rose in his sallow cheeks. "Not bad for a fatherless kid from the Manchester slums," he whispered, sounding pleased for the first time. Then his face fell. "But I am referring, as you know full well, to the Unbreakable Vow the boy's mother made me take." Dumbledore looked as though he were about to speak, but Snape didn't let him get a word in. "I used Legilimency, but she was hard to read. She was thinking so desperately about her son, that I could only discover he had an impossible task centred around you. I assumed the boy's task was merely to fetch Gryffindor's sword. For the Dark Lord's last-"

"Don't say the word, Severus," cautioned Dumbledore.

Snape nodded and took a deep breath. "Once I'd bluffed that I knew the Dark Lord's plan, I couldn't go back on my word, Headmaster, and refuse to take the Unbreakable Vow, without both of them suspecting-"

"We've spoken about this so many times. I forgive you, Severus. In fact, once again I congratulate you. You stand to gain greater trust and power than anyone else so far," said Dumbledore, with a cheerful smile. His voice sounded even calmer, and more courteous than usual, in comparison to Snape's passionate whisper.

Snape started to pace again, his hands behind his back, holding his billowing robes down. "When I promised to obey you, I thought I would be the one making sacrifices, not you, Headmaster."

A serene smile crossed Dumbledore's face and his eyes twinkled. "Why should a young man make sacrifices, when a barmy, old codger like myself, can make them instead? You sound like you don't even mind-"

"I DESERVE to take the consequences this time!" Snape wheeled around, and cut him off with a fierce whisper. "You've always protected me from the consequences of my actions before. I spent two years as a Death Eater-"

"You were so young, Severus, you were low ranking and you barely did anything. I've said a thousand times, you should chalk it up to adolescent angst and forgive yourself."

"I won't!"

Dumbledore stared at Snape compassionately. "You're a thousand times harder on yourself than you are on others, Severus, and that's really saying something," he said. Standing up stiffly, as though his joints gave him pain, Dumbledore spoke in a much stronger voice. "You think you made an unforgivable mistake, Severus? On the contrary, all this hinges on MY mistake." Dumbledore contemplated his dead, withered hand. "What a typical Gryffindor I was! In my foolish fondness for heroics, I destroyed the ring the moment I laid my hands on it, instead of testing it for Curses first."

"Such enthusiasm was perfectly understandable, Headmaster, and as long as you keep taking the potions I make you-"

But Dumbledore looked him full in the face and cut him off. "The Curse has reached my elbow, Severus."

Snape stared at the old wizard in horror. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"When it reaches my heart-"

"That won't happen!" insisted Snape in a harsh whisper. "I'll change the potions. I'll brew them stronger. I can stop this, Headmaster. I can invent-"

Dumbledore chuckled affectionately. "You are the most effective defender against Dark Magic I have ever known, Severus," he interrupted gently. "But there are some things you can't prevent. Even if you stop the Curse, you can't save me."

Snape stared blankly at him, eyebrows drawn together, as though confused.

"I haven't drunk the elixir in years, Severus. Not since Nick destroyed the Stone," said Dumbledore.

"Headmaster-"

"What do I have left to look forward to now? If I become like Salazar-"

"That won't happen to you, Headmaster."

Dumbledore shook his head. "You can't be sure, Severus. Even if I'm spared, have you ever seen the poor souls in St Mungo's Ward for the Clapped Out and Bewildered? Incontinence is the least of their troubles. But even to end up there, I'd have to be impossibly lucky." Dumbledore sighed ruefully. "Word has already gotten out that I'm weakening, Severus. My eventual fate will be to end up in a Death Eater torture chamber, which will make St Mungo's look like heaven by comparison. No, this is the best way by far, Severus. I'm quite delighted with how well things have worked out!" He beamed and rubbed his living hand, and dead hand together, as if contemplating something joyful.

"You're just pretending not to mind, to make it easier on me," whispered Snape. His voice shook.

"I truly don't mind, Severus," said Dumbledore, beaming cheerfully.

Staring at the old wizard in distaste, Snape whispered, "I mind: Headmaster. How can you ask me to do this? I won't do it." He was breathing faster, every muscle in his body was clenched and his lips drew back from his yellow, uneven teeth in a snarl.

"It's all right, Severus."

"It's not all right."

"I want you to do it. I know you'll do it." There was a mild hint of warning in Dumbledore's voice.

Snape's voice rose in fury. "You're taking me too much for granted. I WON'T DO IT!" he suddenly screamed. With a wild and demented expression on his face, he grabbled Dumbledore by the shoulders and started shaking him.

"I ORDER YOU TO DO IT, SEVERUS!" Dumbledore shouted, his face suddenly terrifying. Snape's hands dropped limply from his shoulders. After a moment, Dumbledore mastered himself. His face became composed, and he said, in far more controlled but equally firm voice, "You agreed to do it and that's final. I want you to keep investigating the students in your house, Severus-"

A twig cracked under the memory Hagrid's foot. Both Dumbledore and Snape flinched and looked around. The memory Hagrid cleared his throat, embarrassed, and kept walking.

"It seems our conversation is not entirely private. We should end it now," said Dumbledore firmly, adding. "You're doing it and that is final, Severus."

Snape's voice was a soft whisper again, but still just as passionate as it has been when he was screaming. "You ... you tricked me! If I'd known what you were going to ask me to do, I NEVER would have agreed to follow your orders!" He buried his face in his hands. "You sly old codger! Why weren't you put into Slytherin, not Gryffindor?" he said in a broken whisper.

"The Sorting Hat did offer to put me in Slytherin first," said Dumbledore mildly, resting his living hand on Snape's shoulder. The Defence Against The Dark Arts teacher raised his face from his hands, black eyes wide. "But I refused," Dumbledore went on. "I'd heard all Slytherins were evil, you see. So it put me into Gryffindor instead." He smiled and took his hand from Snape's shoulder. "Children see the world in such black and white terms, but it is a very, very long time since I was a child, Severus. Too long. I'm looking forward to my new adventure." He gave a twinkling smile. "Goodnight to you." With a final, polite nod, he turned and walked towards the castle.

Snape watched him go, and Harry was stunned to see tears, shining in the moonlight, running down the sharp planes of his face. Snape pulled the hood of his robe over his head, to conceal them, and stalked off in the direction of Hogwarts.

"Told yeh, Dumbledore was really firm with Snape," said the real Hagrid, in Harry's ear. "Whatever they're talkin' abou' made him cry!"

oOoOoOo

_**Author's Notes: **And the plot thickens further! It must have nearly congealed by now! Bwahahahaha! ;-)_

_ Double Chocolate Stout is real, delicious, and my favourite drink. The idea of beer brewed out of dark chocolate may sound horrifying, but trust me, it's wonderful._

_ Apologies for any eye-bleach required at the thought of Dumbledore pole dancing. Snape put the pole there so he MUST be EVIL! ;-)_

_ I shall now proceed to do my regular, scheduled, begging dance for reviews. Please! (Right kick, left kick.) Please! (Wave arms and shakes hips.) Please! (Arm stand, back double-somersault with one and a half twists in the free position, then cartwheel off stage.) Review! ;-)_

_ **Replies to reviews:**_

_ Thank you to the following people for reviewing: Crowley Black, sasunaru lover, Daedalus Plum, Ripuku, talon81, Yueli, ThePotionsMiss, reicheruchan, Bad fairy, Wings of Pheonix Fire, DNAngelhun, Jazzy, Katharina-B, Yellowwolf, Your Mom Is My Heart, Silvermane1, poofsizzle, Fmh, HecateDeMort, black dilemma, claire2007, chinadoll27, Emu Alive and Kicking, Mak Hertz, thrnbrooke, Bad Luck Jynx, NinjaoftheDarkness, Diarhyn Shadows, Iset, nelly452, ProperT, Moyima, Potter's Wifey, Anissina June, catseye348, Moonsign, and GreenEyedCatDragon._

_ Riku-Rocks: Thanks for your review. What changed in the Vow? Good question!_

_ LunaSky: Thank you for reviewing! Why didn't Buckbeak go after Hermione's otter as well as Draco's ferret? Well, Buckbeak was used to eating ferrets, because that's what Hagrid fed him. Besides, most species of otters are far too big to be bite-sized to a hippogriff. Sea otters weight 45kg or as much as a large dog. (But not as large as Sirius Black! ;-) _


	27. Slytherins and Gryffindors

_**Author's Notes:** __Thank you to Lana D for the beta reading._

oOoOoOo

**The Bodyguard**

** Chapter 27: Slytherins and Gryffindors**

As the memory Snape stalked off towards Hogwarts, Hermione's whoop of triumph filled the Pensieve. "Draco, you were RIGHT!" she cried. "Professor Dumbledore DID order Professor Snape to kill him!"

"Is tha' wha' tha' was all abou'?" asked Hagrid.

"Yeah," said Ron excitedly. "Do you know what this means?" He looked at Harry. "If Snape's been on our side all along, he must be the one who's been collecting all the-"

"Ron!" Harry's warning voice cut him off, before he could say 'Horcruxes'.

"If Professor Snape has ... those things ... and he's on our side, then we've practically won! Only one more to find and V-Voldemort is doomed!" said Hermione joyfully, flinging her arms around Ron, who shuddered at the name, then eagerly hugged her back.

"He Who Mus' No' Be Named is nearly done fer? Tha's GREA'!" said Hagrid, with puzzled delight.

"Wait," said Draco, pulling the rainbow-striped scarf off his head. The others fell silent and looked at him with curiosity. "Not so fast! We DON'T know where Snape's loyalties truly lie yet. We only know Dumbledore ordered him to kill him, and he obeyed."

"But doesn't that mean-?" Harry began.

"No," said Draco. "Not at all. You're not thinking like a Slytherin, Harry. For all we know, Snape could have been truly loyal to Voldemort, or only loyal to himself, not Dumbledore. He may have been absolutely delighted to receive that order."

Ron winced. "Strange way of showing his delight. Snape was crying!" he pointed out.

"He might have been acting!"

"Nobody could act that well!"

"Snape could," insisted Draco. "He used to boast to me about his acting skills." He frowned at the memory Snape, still walking towards the castle. "Don't you think he was ... overdoing ... the grief a bit?" he asked tentatively.

"I don't get it, Draco," said Ron. "You were the one who gave us the idea Snape must be on our side. Now you're saying the opposite-"

"I've changed my mind," said Draco sharply. "I trusted Snape implicitly for years, and I used to think I could rely on own judgement. After the Vow," he glanced at Harry and bit his lip. "I'm not so sure."

Harry stared back miserably at his boyfriend. Draco looked so sad that he had an urge to throw his arms around him and give him a comforting squeeze. But the non-Vow Draco would have recoiled in horror, Harry told himself. He couldn't inflict himself on Draco, no matter how much he craved his boyfriend's touch, or how much the Vow made Draco seem to want him...

"Professor Dumbledore would have had a thin' or two ter say abou' this Vow," Hagrid growled.

"Yes, that's what Moody said. And Lupin," Harry sighed and pushed both his hands back through his hair.

The half-giant rubbed his chin. "Under a spell ter love yeh?" he said. "There's summat so wrong abou' tha'." He looked sad. "Yeh should be kind ter Draco, Harry."

"I am being kind," said Harry wearily. But he noticed Draco narrow his eyes.

The memory ended. All around them, the stars and the lights of Hogwarts in the distance, winked out. They rose up weightlessly through the warm darkness and found themselves standing around the Pensieve in the dirty back room of the Hog's Head, blinking in the light streaming through the smeared windowpanes.

"That was cool!" exclaimed Ron.

"You!" came a snarling voice behind them. The quartet and Hagrid wheeled around.

Aberforth was standing in the open door, transfixed with rage, at the sight of Draco. The Slytherin gulped, adjusted the rainbow-striped scarf now hanging around his shoulders, instead of covering his face, and looked worried. The landlord's eyes burned with hatred.

"Uh, oh," muttered Hagrid, pushing forward so he was standing protectively in front of Draco.

Aberforth's burning, accusing stare turned to the half-giant. "You let THIS into MY pub?" he snarled, indicating Draco. Harry stepped a little closer to the Slytherin too, and dipped his hand into his robes, ready to pull out his wand at short notice. He'd never seen Aberforth fight, but if he had even half his brother's skill, they were all in serious trouble.

"Now, Aberforth, don' ge' angry!" Hagrid pleaded. "Draco's really sorry abou' Professor Dumbledore. He didn' mean ter-"

With a roar of fury, Aberforth spun around, snatched a battered Beater's bat out from behind his bar, and raised it in Draco's direction, as if planning to smash his brains in. "Didn't mean it? He helped kill my brother, and he didn't mean it?"

"There's no need fer tha', Aberforth. Draco's helpin' us-" Hagrid began, but the landlord rushed headlong at the trembling Slytherin. Hagrid hastily insinuated his massive body between Draco and Aberforth and Harry heard the bat bashing the half-giant's chest, with a noise like something being crushed. "Maybe yeh should leave now," the half-giant said to the quartet, in an apologetic tone, that, surprisingly, didn't sound pained, despite the fearsome blows raining down on him.

Ron and Draco didn't have to be asked twice. They ran for the door.

Hermione ran, then hesitated, looking back as if wondering if she should stay and help Hagrid. Harry also paused. "Go on," Hagrid insisted, waving a huge hand at them, while fending off Aberforth's savage blows with the other arm. Reluctantly, Harry and Hermione left.

Bandaged and hooded heads turned to follow them as they ran through the pub and out the front door, into the blessed fresh air and sunlight. Draco and Ron were already there, leaning their hands on their knees and panting. They could hear, by the sound of thudding blows, and Aberforth's muffled screams of rage, that Hagrid was also leaving. When the half-giant came out, Aberforth stood in the doorway. "And stay out!" the landlord bellowed. "I never want to see any of you in here again! You are BARRED!"

"Wha'? Again?" asked Hagrid, clearly stricken.

Aberforth didn't answer, but slammed the door shut.

"Oh, no!" cried Hagrid, staring at the closed door. He seemed more hurt by being barred, than from the bashing he had just received. "Tha' means the on'y pub lef' in Hogsmeade I can drink a' is the Three Broomsticks! An' Madam Rosemerta don' like hippogriffs in the taproom!"

"I'm sorry, Hagrid," panted Draco. "Are you all right? It sounded like he broke every bone in your body!"

"I'm no' hur'. But he crushed all me dog biscuits," said Hagrid dolefully, emptying masses of crumbs from his pockets. The quartet glanced at each other, with relief and amusement. "Le's go ter the Three Broomsticks now. Me tongue's hangin' ou' fer some Firewhiskey."

"Sorry, but I'd rather not," said Draco. "The last time I was at the Three Broomsticks, I cast Imperio on the landlady, and I have a feeling she'll hold that against me." He handed the rainbow-striped scarf back to Hagrid, and the jacket back to Harry, who put it on.

"We have to get back to the Headquarters anyway," said Hermione. "We've got a lot to discuss."

Hagrid's face fell, and Draco spoke up. "You don't have to go to the Three Broomsticks for Firewhiskey, Hagrid. I can Charm you some right here."

"He can too!" Ron said, in an awed, respectful voice. "You should have seen Draco last night, Hagrid. He must have Charmed litres of Firewhiskey for the Order."

"Is tha' so?" asked Hagrid, staring at Draco in rapt attention.

"I'll show you. Merlin knows, I owe you for saving my life just now," said Draco. Hermione looked irritable as he bent down, picked up a pebble and Transfigured it into a bottle. Then he put it down on the ground, and placed an Engorgement spell on it, so that it swelled up to waist-height. Putting the tip of his wand inside the bottle, he started filling it with Firewhiskey. Hagrid gave a deep rumble of delight, and licked his lips, as fragrant, eye-watering smoke poured from the mouth of the bottle.

When the bottle was full, Hagrid lifted it to his lips and took a sip. "Won'erful!" he cried.

Draco grinned, and cast a Refilling Charm on the bottle.

Hagrid was beside himself with joy. "If tha' ain' the bes' bi' o' magic I ever saw!" he exclaimed, hugging the smoking bottle close to his heart and offering his gigantic right hand to the Slytherin, who shook one of his cucumber-sized fingers with a slight smirk. Hermione rolled her eyes, and Hagrid added, "Thank yeh, Draco."

"Thanks for everything, Hagrid. Take care," Draco said.

"Got ter get back now," said Hagrid. "Goodbye!" The others murmured goodbyes and thanks as the half-giant lumbered off, in the direction of Hogwarts, clutching the enormous, smoking bottle as though it were a rare prize.

"You've made a friend there," Harry muttered into Draco's ear.

"I just hope Hagrid doesn't set fire to his bed, when he's drunk my Firewhiskey," Draco murmured back. "I don't want Hogwarts to burn down."

"He'll set fire to something for certain. Why do you think all the other pubs in Hogsmeade have barred him? Hagrid is a regular arsonist when he's drunk," grumbled Hermione, watching the half-giant turn a corner and walk out of sight. She sighed, as if she realised there was nothing she could do, and she washed her hands of the consequences. Then she turned to Ron and Harry and asked, in a business-like tone. "What happened with Madam Pince?"

Harry and Ron explained how Madam Pince was really Eileen Prince and married to Filch.

Draco listened, with obvious fascination. "I knew Severus was on good terms with Pince and Filch, but I had no idea they were family."

"If we mean to face Snape, and ask him about those ... things ... we need to know as much about him as possible," said Hermione. She looked around at the others and added, "He's the most powerful Death Eater. Possibly the most powerful Dark wizard on Earth. He's won every duel he's ever fought with you, Harry."

Harry gave a humourless laugh. "Not only that, but each time I've fought him, he's tried to teach me!"

"I suppose old habits die hard," chuckled Draco.

"When Snape was running away from Hogwarts, he kept blocking my spells and sneering that I had to close my mind."

"Well, you've closed it now," said Ron. "I dare say Snape will be pleased with your Occlumency, if he fought you now!"

Draco beamed.

"I still couldn't beat him," Harry stated.

"No," said Hermione softly, rubbing a hand over her mouth, obviously deep in thought. "It's strange that in his letter to Draco, Snape mentioned that he knew your Aunt Petunia. Did you know about that?"

Harry shook his head. "Aunt Petunia's never said a word about him. But that doesn't signify. I got the impression she knew a lot more about magic society than she ever let on. And even if Snape knew my aunt, it doesn't mean that he's on our side." Harry grimaced. "If he's met my aunt, he's probably NOT on our side. Ten minutes with my Aunt Petunia would have any wizard lining up to join Voldemort and kill Muggles."

"Why? What did your aunt do to you?" asked Draco.

"Locked me in the Cupboard Under The Stairs for eleven years," said Harry bluntly.

Draco grimaced. "I heard about that, but I thought the Daily Prophet had made it up. It's true then?"

"Yes-" Harry began. But he saw Ron suddenly perk up, like a Jack Russell terrier shown a ball. "What is it, Ron?"

"I know how we can PROVE what side Professor Snape is on," said Ron. The others looked at him. "His Patronus! Spirit guardians can't lie - if we see what shape it is, we'll KNOW where his loyalties lie."

"Snape never showed us what his Patronus looks like," said Hermione.

"Not even when we were studying Dementors in class," said Harry.

"It was a black panther, but perhaps it's changed," said Draco. "I'll send my Patronus and ask him to send his own back." Pulling out his wand, Draco sent his silvery ferret scampering off into the distance.

Harry watched it go. "I don't think you got the Patronus messaging spell quite right just then-" he began.

"NOW look who's teaching all the time," said Draco. He grinned and reached toward Harry, who stepped backwards. The Slytherin frowned. "Let's Apparate back to the Headquarters," he muttered. "You and I need to have a little talk, Harry."

oOoOoOo

Harry had barely stepped over the threshold of the Headquarters, when Draco grabbed him and pushed him against the wall. "What's the matter with you?" he demanded. "First you say you love me, now you've gone all cold and you won't even touch me-"

"I'm staying away from you for your benefit," snapped Harry, pushing Draco's hands off him. "You don't really love me. It's the Vow! You hate me!"

"Are you trying to tell me you know better than I do how I feel?" sneered Draco, his pale eyes narrowing as he drew himself up, every inch an insulted aristocrat.

"Yes!" Harry folded his arms and stared back at Draco, though he could feel his eyes stinging.

"How dare you, Potter!" Draco snarled. Harry noted the use of his last name. The Slytherin tugged at the jumper, t-shirt and jeans of Harry's he was wearing. "I've got my own clothes back now, I'm going to get this Muggle filth of yours off me!" Turning on his heel, Draco stormed off towards the stairs.

Harry stared after him, trying to breath. When his eyes had stopped stinging, he walked into the kitchen.

The kitchen was warm and noisy. The Slytherins were already there, making sandwiches.

Pansy waved merrily. "Come in, have some lunch," she called out.

Not feeling the slightest bit hungry, Harry sat down at the table. Ron and Hermione had already heaped their plates with sandwiches and were tucking in.

"Where's Draco?" asked Theodore, holding a sandwich up to his mouth and taking in Harry's shattered expression.

"Gone upstairs to get changed into a robe," said Harry, not wanting to go into detail.

"What a pity! I thought those jeans suited him," said Blaise, spreading cold, shredded chicken on a roll.

Harry sat there, listening to the cheerful babble all around him. He helped Crabbe and Goyle prepare a mountain of sandwiches for themselves and watched them eat, but he ate nothing himself. Then he heard the Weasley twins in the corridor, talking at the tops of their voices.

"Zonkos say they'll order a hundred hats. Haven't got their order in writing yet, Fred."

"Got to get it in writing or it doesn't mean a thing, George."

The twins burst into the kitchen. Unusually, they were both wearing mismatched trilby hats, in a brilliant shade of orange that clashed horribly with their hair. Ron scowled at them, over his chicken sandwich.

"Harry!" the twins chorused. "How are you?"

"Where's Draco?" asked George.

"We wanted to tell you both, the Virginity Trap is going splendidly. We've sold fifty at our Diagon Alley store alone. When Hogwarts opens next semester, I expect every corridor will be Trapped," said Fred triumphantly.

Hermione looked outraged.

"Most of the kids in the school will need one of these hats to get through the Traps. Five galleons each, and we're going to sell hundreds," said George, doffing his own trilby and bowing to Harry.

Ron looked at the hats and a wicked grin spread over his face. "So you're both still virgins," he said.

The Slytherins sniggered and deep blushes crept up the twins' cheeks.

"Yes, why don't you two just have sex? Then you won't need to wear those hideous hats!"

It was Ginny Weasley's voice, out in the corridor, and when she strolled into the kitchen, Harry got up and gave her a hug. They'd never stopped being close friends, even after they'd stopped dating. Ginny had grown much taller, in the years since Harry had left Hogwarts. She had only finished her schooling there a month before. But Harry was more interested in talking to her, than looking at her.

"My goodness, what's the matter, Harry?" she asked, as soon as she had pulled away from him and got a glimpse of his face. They sat down at the table together, and Harry told her privately about the Vow and Draco. The twins sat on the end of the table, eating sandwiches and still blushing. Ron wasn't looking at them, but he was smiling to himself as he ate his lunch.

Then Draco entered, and Harry's heart froze at the sight of him. Gone was the familiar, casual Draco that he'd fallen in love with, slopping around in his lover's old t-shirt and jeans. Now the pure-blood wore extremely formal black robes, and looked more like an aristocratic, magical business man, like his dreaded father had been, than a teenager and Harry's boyfriend.

His friends greeted him happily, but Draco merely nodded, his face like a thundercloud, especially when he saw Harry sitting with Ginny. He reached into his robes and drew out the Vow. "I got this out of Harry's trunk. I think you should read it, Nott," he said, slamming the crumpled piece of paper down in front of his friend.

"Is it important?" asked Theodore indistinctly, his mouth full of chicken sandwich.

"There's nothing more important," said Draco, his pale eyes narrowing in Harry's direction. "Potter," Draco almost spat Harry's last name. "Thinks I'm some kind of stupid puppet, due to this Vow I'm under, Nott. I want you to read it and tell him otherwise."

Theodore picked up the Vow, with a thoughtful glance at Harry, and began to read. The rest of the Slytherins stood up, and started reading over his shoulder, apart from Crabbe and Goyle, who were still stuffing sandwiches into their faces and didn't seem to realise what was going on.

Ginny glanced at Harry, who nodded sadly.

After a few minutes of reading, Theodore put his sandwich down, as if his appetite had deserted him. His fingers whitened, and clenched around the Vow, crumbling it further. At length, he put it down and folded it methodically, staring straight ahead and saying nothing. His face was pale.

"Well?" demanded Draco.

"Who wrote this?" asked Theodore, his voice unsteady.

"Dolores Umbridge, the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and Chief Auror Barnes," said Harry.

Theodore's lips worked, as if he were swearing silently. "They ought to go to Azkaban for this," he said at length. "And so should YOU," he snapped, glaring at Harry. "How could you do this to Malfoy? How could you stand there, in front of the Wizengamot, and SAY this filth?"

"I had no idea what I was doing," said Harry, riddled with guilt and conscious of sounding pathetic. "The Ministry didn't give me a choice. I thought I was saving Draco from Azkaban and I wasn't paying attention to the words. If only I'd known-"

"How could you NOT have known? You were READING it!" Theodore cut him off.

"I didn't understand it! And I was worried about Draco at the time; the Aurors had beaten him, he hadn't slept or eaten and he looked like he was about to pass out," said Harry. He added miserably, "I'm so sorry! I'd do anything to make it up to Draco. ANYTHING!"

"Stop talking about me as if I weren't here," said Draco sulkily.

"I'm sorry, Malfoy. But I have to tell you, because of this Vow, you ARE a puppet!" said Theodore. The rest of the Slytherins gasped. Hermione looked grim.

"I'm not!" yelled Draco, greatly scandalized. "The Vow's GONE, Nott. I don't care what you just read. It used to burn me when I disobeyed Harry, but it vanished days ago. I can do what I like now!"

"Let me guess, Malfoy, the Vow stopped burning you when you fell in love with Potter?" asked Theodore, looking just as grim as Hermione.

Draco's mouth dropped open and his retort died on his lips. He nodded slowly. "How did you know?"

"I know because I read the Vow." Theodore glared at Harry. "And UNDERSTOOD it," the stringy Slytherin added contemptuously, and pushed the offending piece of paper as far from himself as possible. Full of sorrow, Harry picked up the Vow, and tucked it into his pocket.

Draco stared in horror. "Tell me, Nott."

Theodore took a deep breath. "The whole point of the Vow is to make the victim fall in love. Make them willing to do anything for their master. Kill for them! Die for them!"

Hermione made a muffled sound of outrage.

"Once the magic works, and the victim falls in love, the strangling flame isn't needed anymore," said Theodore relentlessly. "The control is internalised and the flame is in their hearts, controlling their thoughts, controlling their every action!"

"So not feeling the Vow isn't a sign that it's gone, Draco, it's proof that it controls you completely," said Hermione. She also had put her sandwich down, as if her appetite was gone. Ron stared, open-mouthed, his last chewed bite disgustingly visible.

"I'm so sorry, Draco," said Harry again. He thought his apology sounded weak and hollow, but he didn't know what else he could do.

Draco sank into a chair. "I am NOT a puppet," he insisted, but he sounded less sure of himself.

"How do we get the Vow off him?" Harry asked Theodore and Hermione.

The stringy Slytherin looked at Hermione and gave a helpless shrug.

"I've been thinking about it," said Hermione briskly. "The Vow can only be broken by death of either the master or the slave. Maybe if you drank a potion of Living Death, Draco, that would fool the Vow into thinking you'd died and it would disappear?"

"That won't work," said Theodore. "Malfoy wouldn't be dead enough."

Hermione pressed her lips together. "Then I don't know how to remove the Vow," she admitted. "The Ministry have thought of everything."

There was silence in the kitchen for a minute. Draco spoke up. "I don't feel controlled," he said. "I feel ... normal." He sat up suddenly. "How do you know if you're being controlled? For all any of you know, YOU could be under a Vow and not know it, because you feel normal. How do you TELL?"

"The only way is to remember how you felt before the Vow, and compare it to how you feel now," said Hermione.

"Did you love me before the Vow, Draco?" asked Harry. It was his last, great hope, that Draco had loved him anyway. But he was sorely disappointed.

Theodore, Blaise and Pansy burst out laughing. Crabbe and Goyle saw them laughing and hastily followed suit, though they clearly didn't know what was going on.

"Loved you? Malfoy HATED you," said Blaise.

Harry felt a knife go through his heart.

"All he thought about was making your life a misery," said Theodore.

"Sometimes we'd wait half an hour in a Hogwarts corridor, just so he could call you names when you went past," said Pansy.

Harry hung his head, and blinked his watering eyes fiercely. Ginny noticed, and laid a comforting hand on his shoulder.

Draco glared at Ginny and stood up so quickly his chair tumbled backwards. "Get your hand OFF him!" he snarled.

The youngest Weasley was never one to shy away from a fight. She stood up as well. "Why don't you make me?" she said angrily, keeping one hand on Harry's shoulder and reaching into her robes for her wand with her other hand.

Draco snatched out his own wand, even as Hermione started to remonstrate with them both. "Harry's mine," he growled. "Don't even dream you're getting back with him."

"I warn you, Weasley," said Theodore in a matter-of-fact voice. "Malfoy here is just a tad spoiled. He gets what he wants, and if he doesn't get it, he destroys it. Merlin help you if you stand in his way."

"Shut up, Nott," snapped Draco.

"I HAVE a boyfriend already, thank you very much," said Ginny, brandishing her wand. "I'm not interested in dating Harry again. But I want to protect him. You don't OWN Harry, Malfoy. You don't even love him. It's the Vow-"

"I don't CARE about the Vow!" shouted Draco. "I FEEL like I love him and that's good enough for me."

"It's not good enough for Harry," said Ginny. "He DOES love you. Merlin knows why," she added, taking in Draco's expression, which was just as disagreeable as it had been at Hogwarts.

"You feel like you love me, but you really hate me," said Harry, standing up as well. "The Vow is a Love Potion. I care about you, Draco. I want to spare you."

Draco stared at him, and, unexpectedly, a smile spread over his face and he lowered his wand. "I understand, Harry. You're my Gryffindor knight in shining armour, trying to save me from the dreaded Vow," he sniggered. Ginny's lips twitched and she took her hand from Harry's shoulder and put her wand away.

"I suppose so," said Harry, feeling a blush spread over his cheeks.

"Gryffindor heroics! You love me, you want me, but you're oh - so - nobly sparing me from your touch."

Harry nodded and Draco gave him a wicked grin and pushed his wand back into his robes. "You know what heroics make me, Harry? Horny!" He reached forward to grab his boyfriend and didn't seem the least bit put out when Harry ducked out of his arms and ran. He chased Harry around the table. The Slytherins started to laugh.

"Get him, Malfoy!" shouted Blaise.

"Stop encouraging him! I don't want to take advantage," cried Harry, ducking under Draco's arms again and running around the other side of the table. He glared at all the giggling Slytherins. Even the Weasleys seemed amused. Only Hermione had a serious expression and seemed to understand the gravity of the situation.

"He wants you to take advantage. So take advantage, Potter," yawned Blaise. "I would."

"That's because you're a Slytherin," said Harry angrily. "You don't care about right and wrong, you only care about getting what you want."

There was an immediate storm of Slytherin protest.

"How dare you?" cried Nott. "You're just being a typical Gryffindor and trying to be stupidly noble. The Vow is your fault and you said you'd do anything to make up for it. If Malfoy wants you, you should let him have you."

"That's right, Harry," panted Draco, grinning from ear to ear. "Come on, Harry, how about a quick shag?"

The Slytherins howled with laughter. The Gryffindors blushed as well as laughed. Hermione frowned.

"No," said Harry.

"Come on, it'll be fun!"

"IT'LL BE RAPE!" shouted Harry and everyone stopped laughing. Draco froze. Hermione nodded.

Harry stared at the Slytherins, panting with emotion. "Shagging Draco, while he's under the influence of the Vow is rape. Unless..." A sudden desperate hope seized his heart. "Unless ... you can prove to me ... did Draco show any sign, any sign at all, of desiring me before the Vow?"

The Slytherins looked at each other and shook their heads.

The knife went through Harry's heart again. He took a deep breath. "Then the fact he wants me to shag him now means it's the Vow. I'm sorry, Draco. I love you but we can't be together any more."

Aware of everyone in the room staring at him, Harry hung his head, walked out of the kitchen and closed the door.

oOoOoOo

The walk up to the attic bedroom had never felt so long. Harry saw one of his teardrops fall on a step, and took a deep breath. No point feeling sorry for himself. He had to put Draco's welfare first.

He let himself into the bedroom, shut the door behind him and locked it. He was about to throw himself down on the bed, but a sixth sense warned him he was being watched. A chill went through him and he pulled out his wand. Something was close by ... something had been waiting to get him alone...

With a crash, something large and black hurled itself against the round window...

oOoOoOo

_**Author's Notes: **I've worked out, I've got to produce a chapter every 3.8 days to get them all done before the Deathly Hallows comes out. Go, Luuuurve, go! ;-)_

_ Please review! Surely I deserve a review or two after all that Hagrid dialect? (Hagrid, I love you but I'm glad you're out of the story now. Your speech is so hard to write! ;-)_

_ **Replies to reviews:**_

_ Thank you to the following people for reviewing: Yellowwolf, Eagle-Eyes, Emu Alive and Kicking, Norwegian MoonShadow, Ana Lilly, Crowley Black, aliasangel3, DrarryFan4eva, thrnbrooke, rekahneko, Fmh, Moonsign, Silver-Tiger-Fira, Bad fairy, NinjaoftheDarkness, Katharina-B, PhoenixxStarr, Anoymous, chinadoll27, Silvermane1, feltonxmalfoy, ProperT, Your Mom Is My Heart, Moyima, AngelLuva, LunaSky, Potter's Wifey, HecateDeMort, GreenEyedCatDragon, and Riku-Rocks._

_ AmaranthineAnathema: Thanks for that amazing review! Your comments about Snape are really intuitive. I hope the next chapters don't disappoint!_

_ sasunaru lover: Thanks for reviewing! P.S. Glad you like the way Snape writes letters! ;-)_

_ bellajen94: Oh yes, Umbridge is still on course for getting hers. I've already written that final chapter. Thanks for reviewing!_

_ ThePotionsMiss: Double Chocolate Stout is real, and my favourite drink. Young's Luxury Double Chocolate Stout is the drink to have in the UK. In Australia, Red Oak do a fine Belgium Chocolate Stout. _


	28. Magic Word

**The Bodyguard**

** Chapter 28: Magic Word**

The shapeless, black creature struck the window again. Was it a Dementor? Panting with horror, his heart hammering in his ears, Harry raised his wand to summon his Patronus, and tried to focus on a single, happy memory. But his mind was a miserable abyss, full of thoughts of Draco.

Again, the creature slammed against the window, and the glass shivered. No, Harry realised, it couldn't be a Dementor. It was too small and no cold emanated from it. When the creature finally settled on the windowsill with a scraping of claws, Harry got his first proper look.

He saw a long, black beak, glittering eyes so dark they looked black, and glossy, black feathers. The raven pecked at the window, cawed menacingly, and raising its shaggy throat hackles. Harry shuddered. He remembered Professor Trelawney's lessons. Ravens were supposed to be birds of ill-omen and death. They were residents of execution sites and avatars of damned souls...

...there was a small slip of grey paper tied to the bird's right leg.

Feeling ridiculous, Harry tried to shake off his dread. The raven is a messenger, not some evil omen, he told himself sternly. Though his instincts screamed at him, he opened the window and the raven hopped inside, irritably raising a leg so Harry could untie the letter. When the letter came loose, the raven aimed a peck at his hand, hopped back onto the windowsill, spread its ragged, black wings and flew away. Harry closed the window with rather more speed than was necessary.

The letter had been tightly folded. Harry flattened it out, still fighting with his feelings of dread, and read the spiky handwriting:

_Potter,_

_Your insufferable arrogance has led you to believe you can use Draco Malfoy to manipulate me. But I will NOT send you my Patronus, even if you make Draco ask._

_Your teaching skills leave a lot to be desired. Tell Draco the wand motions are swish, flick, when a reply to a Patronus message is required. It is your responsibility to make sure he performs his next Patronus message correctly. I will not tolerate sloppiness._

_The four of you shall meet me tonight, at 7pm. I shall be sitting in my favourite chair. Draco knows where that is. Bring the Unbreakable Vow, if you have a copy, and Nagini's body._

_Do not be late._

_No reply to this message is required. You WILL be there tonight. It is of the utmost importance that we meet and conduct our business before midnight. The fate of the entire world depends on this meeting._

_Severus Snape_

Harry crumpled the letter and stuffed it into his pocket. Not only had the greasy git refused to display his Patronus - the one thing that would prove his true loyalties - but to add insult to injury, he'd tried to teach again.

Beyond a dull flash of anger, Harry couldn't rouse himself out of his current, bleak state enough to care what Snape was planning. Thoughts of Draco were playing over and over in his mind, like moving images in the Daily Prophet. He relived every moment he had spent with the Slytherin. The touches and the looks of the last few, precious, misleading days. Then back to their time at Hogwarts together. The glares, the fighting, the endless verbal digs. How could he possibly have thought Draco had fallen in love with him?

Cursing his own stupidity, Harry lay down on the bed. The pillow smelled just like Draco, and Harry wrapped his arms around it and buried his face in its soft depths. Tears squeezed out of his eyes.

So this was what it was like to have a broken heart? It was agonising. Every thought, every breath belonged to Draco, but he couldn't have him. His instinct was to find a Healer, but what Healer could fix a broken heart? He cursed his ability to love so quickly. Why hadn't Dumbledore or Sirius WARNED him love would be like this?

But then he remembered - Dumbledore and Sirius had loved easily, and unwisely too. Dumbledore had put off telling him about the prophecy for years, to spare him pain. Sirius had invited Harry to move into his house, minutes after Harry had tried to strangle him.

Harry wondered how his godfather had coped with loving so easily. But then it occurred to him that Sirius HADN'T coped. He remembered how his godfather had stunk of alcohol, that time they'd visited Grimmauld Place.

Harry was hardly about copy his godfather and start drinking now. His only source of alcohol - how he remembered the proud, happy smile on Draco's face when he Charmed Firewhiskey! - was down in the kitchen...

...or was he? Harry lifted his head from the pillow. He could hear footsteps and voices. A chattering multitude was climbing up the stairs.

"If this is what shagging results in, Fred, I'm glad we haven't."

"Couldn't agree more, George."

"This is so like Harry, Draco. He always hides himself away when there's something wrong. He hid when he thought he was possessed by You Know Who, instead of talking to me - and he knew I'd been possessed and could have helped him."

"I say, Ginny!" Harry heard Draco reply, and even in his misery, his heart leapt at the sound of his ex-boyfriend's voice. He listened to the rising sound of chatter outside the door. How many people had Draco brought?

"Who's there?" Harry called out.

There was a crescendo of people shouting their names. It sounded like all of Draco's Slytherin friends, and all his new Gryffindor friends as well. Harry buried his face in the pillow, and groaned. Gryffindors might aspire to being lone heroes, but judging from the noise level outside, it appeared peer pressure groups were more a Slytherin's style. The last thing that Harry wanted was to face everybody.

There was a knock on the door. "Let us in, Harry," Hermione demanded.

"Go away!" shouted Harry. He wondered if he sounded childish. Then he decided that he didn't care.

"No!" said Draco crossly. "We need to talk, Harry."

"We don't need to talk in front of EVERYBODY!"

"Why not? There are a lot of people out here who care about you, Harry."

Another crescendo, this time of agreements.

"We don't want you beating yourself up about this Vow," Ginny shouted. "It's Umbridge's fault. She's such a bi-"

"Ginny," warned Hermione.

"Well, she is! Barnes is too! Let us in, Harry!" The door handle twisted, but the locking spell held.

"No!" cried Harry. "Draco, why'd you have to invite everyone? This is embarrassing-"

"You think YOU'RE embarrassed, Harry? Ron blabbed about my diary and Nott and Hermione made me get it out so everyone could read it. I nearly died..."

Harry frowned against the pillow. "Nobody knew about your diary?"

"They know now. Thanks a LOT, Weasley."

Ron gave a wicked laugh.

"It's for your own good, Malfoy," said Theodore.

"That's what YOU say, Nott. You just wanted to read it."

"It was interesting. Loved the pictures of Hermione."

"Shut up, Nott!"

"Harry, let us in," said Pansy. "I'm tired of standing around out here."

"No!"

"All right, I'm sick of this," said Hermione. "Alohomora!"

The door clicked open, and a familiar crowd flooded into the attic bedroom, with Hermione in the lead, clutching Draco's massive diary, and Draco in the middle, pale, red-eyed and being supported by the entire group.

"You can stop this nonsense right now, Harry," Hermione scolded. "You have to stay with Draco."

Harry sat up fast, wiping his eyes and blushing furiously. "Hermione!" he grumbled. Draco sat down gracefully down next to him, and the bed shuddered and rocked, as everyone else climbed on. Pansy ended up on the Weasley twins' laps and giggled. The floor creaked. The attic bedroom, let alone the bed, had probably never held so many people.

"Sorry for doing this to you, mate," said Ron apologetically. "But Hermione says the Vow will probably kill Draco if you break up."

Harry moaned in horror.

"And before he dies, he'll whine endlessly to us! Take pity on our eardrums, please, and go back to him!" said Blaise.

"You should have heard Draco downstairs," George smirked. "We HAD to come up to make you date him again, Harry, so we could get some peace and quiet!"

Draco rolled his eyes and snuggled possessively up to Harry, who wanted to scoot away, but Ron's words held him still, and there wasn't any room left on the bed anyway. Besides, Draco was warm and he smelled so good. As he buried his face in Harry's neck, Harry distinctly heard him murmur, "Mine!"

"Draco, don't do that to Harry in public," said Ron uncomfortably.

"There's no limit to what I'd do to Harry in public. You should know," said Draco, lifting his head from Harry's neck and smirking at Ron. The Slytherins sniggered. Ron appeared to remember the blowjob, and looked faint.

"Too much information!" he exclaimed.

"Draco, this is wrong," said Harry dully. "The Vow is a Love Potion. You're putting all this effort into getting back with someone you hate."

Draco's eyes burned. "Stubborn Gryffindor!" he growled, and sucked hard on Harry's neck. Harry yelled and fell back into the throng of people on his bed, with Draco on top.

"Draco, get OFF him," said Hermione irritably. "I want to show Harry those ... interesting parts ... of your diary."

"Oh no!" Draco gave an embarrassed groan and sat up at once. Harry sat up too, noting that though shagging and physical nakedness didn't embarrass the Slytherin at all, he seemed to find emotional nakedness, such as his diary, absolutely excruciating.

"Yes," said Hermione. She set the diary down on in the middle of the bed, in front of Harry, and opened the battered, leather cover, forcing people to squeeze back.

Harry glanced at the first page. He hadn't seen it before, but then, he hadn't paid attention to any of the earlier pages. In big, green handwriting that looked childish, but still very tidy, like his adult handwriting, Draco had written:

School Diary of Draco Malfoy, aged 11. One of my 11th birthday presents from Mother and Father.

"Harry, Ron tells me you didn't read the first part of Draco's diary," said Hermione.

"I didn't."

"You should. It might make you understand Draco better," said Hermione.

"Harry, you want to save Draco from your touch because you think he used to hate you?" asked Theodore. Harry nodded miserably.

"Then at least look at his diary and find out WHY he hated you. You might be surprised."

"I assumed he hated me because he had to; we were on opposite sides," said Harry, glancing at Draco, who was fidgeting.

"No, that's not why I started hating you," Draco said. With a resigned shrug, he added, "Just read what Hermione shows you. I don't have any secrets. Not from anyone, any more." He pouted at the grinning crowd on the bed. Fred and George laughed evilly. Pansy made a show of slapping their faces, and they fended her off, grinning.

"Did you know Draco planned to be your best friend, before First Year started?" Hermione asked.

"No," said Harry slowly, while Draco squirmed in his arms. "He apologized and said we should have been friends, outside the Wizengamot." Knowledge of Slytherin wiles compelled Harry to add: "But he was desperate for my help at the time."

Draco frowned.

"And he asked me to be his friend, in First Year, on the Hogwart's Express," Harry went on. "But I thought he'd asked me on the spur of the moment."

"Ah, Harry, you have no idea," Hermione sighed, and turned the page. "Read this," she said bossily.

Harry was getting sick of being ordered around, but he looked at the words written above the swatch of pasted-in black fabric and read:

31st July 1991

Father, Mother and I went to Diagon Alley to buy school things today. I met a boy there. I was getting my school robes pinned up in Madam Malkin's, and I looked over and he was there, being pinned up as well.

I thought I was the only kid who was nervous about going to school, but he looked nervous too, so I talked to him, though I didn't know who his family were.

But the boy left, before he told me his name. I don't know why, but I really wanted to know who he was. I followed him out of the shop and saw him walking off, eating ice-cream, with that barbarian savage Father told me about. I wanted to ask the boy his name, but Hagrid is so big it's scary. People shouldn't be ALLOWED to be that big. Then I lost my chance to speak to the boy, because Madam Malkin came out and dragged me back inside. I'd walked off wearing that stupid school uniform and the fool thought I was stealing it. As if anyone in MY family would have to steal something because they couldn't afford it! Mother turned up, and heard Madam Malkin accusing me of being a thief. I told her I was just following that boy, not stealing, and Mother and Madam Malkin started yelling at each other.

While they were yelling, I picked up this bit of fabric that got cut off the boy's school uniform while he was getting fitted. He was kind of scrawny, so they had to cut off a lot. When we left the shop, Mother was in a bad mood and asked me what I was doing collecting off-cuts like that. She said that strange boy had caused enough trouble already, and for all I knew, he might have been a Weasley or a Mudblood.

But I said the boy had black hair and no freckles, and his parents were a witch and a wizard, and both dead. They must have been our kind of people to be dead, because only people like Nott, Crabbe and Goyle have dead parents.

I would hate to lose Mother, even when she's in a bad mood. Losing Father as well would be the worst thing ever.

When Father met up with us, I wanted to stay at Diagon Alley and look around for the boy. I wouldn't have minded meeting Hagrid if both Mother and Father were there. But all my school shopping was done, and Mother was still cross and wanted to go home. I would have said something, but Father gave me my new wand to play with. I can send out green sparks! Mother says I'll learn how to use it properly at Hogwarts. Then I'll be able to teach Muggles and Madam Malkin a thing or two! A thief? Ha!

I keep thinking about that boy. I wonder who he was? Father says I'm sure to see him at Hogwarts. I can't wait! It would be good to have a friend who's smarter than Crabbe and Goyle.

Harry finished reading, but before he turned the page, he reached out and felt the familiar texture of his first Hogwarts robe. He'd grown out of that robe years ago, and thrown it away. Aunt Petunia hadn't even dared to use it as dusters, saying that the freakish, magic material would probably turn her precious antiques into alligators.

The handwriting on the next page was shaky:

1st August 1991 3am

This diary is supposed to be about school, but I had to write what just happened. Arthur Weasley and his Ministry cronies raided our mansion AGAIN tonight. That's twice in one week I've been woken up at one or two in the morning by the front doors being blasted open, and Ministry thugs coming up the stairs.

I HATE Arthur Weasley. Doesn't he ever work during the day? He always raids our mansion after midnight. Sometimes 3am, sometimes 4am. We never know when he's coming.

He made Mother, Father and I line up in the hall, while they searched our bedrooms. I shrunk this diary and kept it in my pyjamas, so they couldn't read it. The FIRST spell I'm going to learn from my new textbooks is how to keep my diary safe. I HATE not having any privacy. I HATE going back to my bedroom, when Weasley and his cronies have gone, and finding all my draws open and my bed pulled apart. It makes me want to cry and I'm not supposed to cry. I'm eleven years old now and grown up.

Father was very polite to Weasley, as usual, but I know he wants to kill him. I want to kill him too. I remember when I was four, and I woke up and saw Arthur Weasley standing over my bed, and I screamed and wet myself. I was so scared and ashamed. For years, I was too scared to sleep in my own bed, because of the raids. I had to sleep in Mother and Father's bed. It's all Weasley's fault.

Father says I'm sure to see some of Weasley's children at Hogwarts. They all wear hand-me-down robes. He says the Weasleys have red hair, freckles and more children than they can afford. I swear, when I see them, I am going to make their lives at Hogwarts a misery, like their father has made my life a misery.

Harry looked at Ron, who was reading the same page. Draco had his arms folded and his face was a grim mask.

"You want me to apologize for my Dad's raids, don't you?" Ron asked Draco.

Draco glared at him and tightened his folded arms. "No apology would ever be enough."

"My Dad raided your mansion because your family were Dark wizards concealing Dark Magic. And he was RIGHT, you WERE," said Ron stoutly.

"And if we hadn't have been Dark, we would have become Dark, just to spite you," snarled Draco. "Those endless raids were torture!"

"Sorry," said Ron, at length. "I had nothing to do with it."

Draco looked at him for a moment, and then started fiddling with his robes. "I know."

Harry looked back down at the diary. The page next to the one describing the raid was covered in childish drawings of Arthur Weasley being alternately garrotted, stunned and hit with the Killing Curse. Draco had been a skilled artist, even at that age. Harry turned quickly to the next page, which was stiff. There were a lot of things stuck on the other side.

1st August 1991 10am

I was tired because of the raid and I slept in. But I woke up really fast when Mother showed me this morning's Daily Prophet. Now I know that boy's name! Harry Potter!

I KNEW there was something special about him!

Underneath, Draco had pasted in a Daily Prophet article, written by Rita Skeeter, announcing the return to the wizarding world of Harry James Potter, The Boy Who Lived. There was a blurred photo of an eleven-year-old Harry, oblivious to the photographer, shopping at Hagrid's side, and interviews with the patrons of the Leaky Cauldron, who had shaken his hand.

"He was very gracious!" Rita Skeeter had recorded Doris Crockford as saying. "He shook my hand five times!"

Rita Skeeter also noted that the latest Chocolate Frog card had come out, this one bearing Harry Potter's portrait, with fireworks dancing behind. Draco had stuck one in with Spellotape next to the article. Harry shuddered with the embarrassment that that card always caused him. They hadn't asked HIM if he wanted to be on a Chocolate Frog card. He hadn't even sat for a portrait. He wasn't familiar with the magic involved and he had no idea how they had gotten his picture.

Draco's writing resumed immediately after the card:

I can't believe I was talking to the most powerful, famous, richest kid in the wizarding world yesterday! It would be SO COOL for everyone to see me with Potter! When I see him again, I'm going to go right up to him, shake his hand, and ask him to be my best friend!

1pm

I sent a letter to Potter, asking him to tea, but my letter just came back undelivered. I'm furious with Loki and really puzzled. My new eagle owl has never failed to deliver a letter before. He's so big and tough that he smashed through Goyle's window, when Goyle didn't open it fast enough.

I'll go and ask Father for help.

4pm

Father wanted to know what I was doing, sending invitations to the boy who killed the Dark Lord. I said Harry Potter was only one year old, when he killed the Dark Lord, so maybe he didn't mean it. I said it would be really cool to have him as a friend, and Father looked angrier than I'd seen him, and I got scared, then suddenly he agreed. He said having Harry Potter around would prove to the Ministry that we weren't Dark wizards, and Arthur Weasley wouldn't be able to drum up enough support to raid our mansion.

So Father sent out my invitation to Potter again, this time with Zeus, his old eagle owl. But Zeus couldn't deliver the invitation either.

Father says Potter must be under some sort of powerful magical protection, which means owls from strangers can't find him. That would explain why no one's been able to track Potter's home down, since he destroyed the Dark Lord.

What a life Potter must lead! He's so powerful, I bet he hates the idea of Mudbloods going to Hogwarts too. I bet he knows more about magic than any of us. HE'S SO COOL!

Father says I'll have to wait until school starts, before I see Potter again, because we have no way of contacting him. BUT IT'S NOT FAIR! I CAN'T WAIT!

The undelivered invitation was pasted in underneath and Draco had drawn a sad face next to it.

Harry flipped through the next pages. They contained more pasted-in articles about him. Draco was working himself up into a frenzy of expectation about meeting Harry properly for the first time and Harry recalled the overly familiar way Draco had asked, "So it's you, is it?" on the Hogwart's Express. If the diary was any indication, Draco had been thinking about Harry night and day since they'd met in Madam Malkin's.

Then came the entry for 1st September 1991. In savage, spiky writing, Draco had written:

I HATE Harry Potter. I went up him in the Hogwart's Express and he was so rude to me! He didn't want to be my friend! He wouldn't shake my hand! He hated me on sight!

The worst part is, guess who he's chosen to be his best friend instead of me? RON WEASLEY! Potter is spending all his time with the son of the man who raids my home! Oh, I'll get even with Potter for this if it's the last thing I do! I'll make him wish he'd never come to Hogwarts. I'll get him and the Weasel expelled...

Harry couldn't bring himself to read any further. "What's this?" he asked Draco, pointing to an empty Chocolate Frog wrapper Spellotaped to the page. Somehow, Harry already knew...

"That second time I met you. On the train, when you refused to be my friend," said Draco frowning. "I grabbed that wrapper when Ron's rat bit Goyle and no one was looking. Then I ran for it, in case you had another attack rat stashed somewhere."

"What did you want with a wrapper?" asked Harry.

"I thought maybe I could put a hex on you with it, or do something with it to make you stop hating me," said Draco frowning. "But in the end I didn't have the power or the spells so I just stuck it in my diary."

"You were obsessed, Draco," said Ron. "Even I don't spend this much time worrying about Harry's press clippings and Chocolate Frog cards. Even Harry doesn't."

"I pretend they don't happen," muttered Harry.

Hermione looked at Harry and Draco and rubbed her mouth, her eyes bright. "It's strange to think how different things could have been," she said. "If Draco had been less alarmed by Hagrid, he would have invited you to tea while you were still at Madam Malkins, Harry. Then you would have known a Slytherin family, and you probably wouldn't have minded so much, being Sorted into Slytherin. If you'd been in Slytherin, you probably would have been Draco's best friend, and Ron would have been your best enemy instead."

Harry and Ron looked at her incredulously.

"Because we know what happened after you and Draco fought on the train, Harry," Hermione continued. "You became best enemies, instead of best friends." She flicked through the pasted in articles, and stopped, grinning. "Look at these photographs. Draco got Colin Creevy to take them." She pointed at the page and Harry could see, not only candid, moving, magic photos of himself at work and play, but, scribbled in next to them, what Draco had paid Colin. As he gave Draco an exasperated look, Harry realised why Colin had always been so keen to take photos of him, especially in the most compromising and painful situations, such as lying on the Quidditch pitch with a broken arm. The worse time Harry was having in the photo, the more Draco was paying!

"You hypocrite! After all that teasing Harry about signed photos in Second Year. I bet YOU wouldn't have said no to a signed photo," said Hermione, and she winked at Draco, whose face was an interesting shade of crimson.

"I can imagine what Harry would have written on a photo he was sending to ME back then," said Draco, and everyone laughed.

"But none of this means Draco loved me, or even fancied me, Hermione. Draco HATED me," said Harry.

"It shows Draco had strong feelings for you, that started out positive," said Hermione wisely.

"Draco called me names and HIT me!" Harry didn't want to sound childish but he was certain that he did.

"Well Harry, little boys hit those they like," said Hermione matter-of-factly.

"I wasn't a little boy and I HATED Harry after he didn't want me as a friend," Draco pointed out. But Hermione merely gave him a knowing look.

"Rubbish!" she said. "I hate V-Voldemort. But I don't keep bits of his old school uniform under my pillow." Everyone but Harry, Draco and Hermione winced at the name.

"Draco hated YOU, Hermione, have you seen this?" Harry asked, flicking to the page where an embarrassed image of Hermione was trying to duck out of reach of the devil's horns, moustache, long fangs, and beard Draco had drawn.

Unexpectedly, Hermione burst out laughing. "Jealousy's a curse, Draco!"

Thought it hardly seemed possible to Harry, Draco went even redder.

"I NEVER dated Harry, let alone cheated on him with Krum," she said, pointing to the Rita Skeeter article next to the photograph. "You were a fool to believe Rita Skeeter, Draco. You, of all people, should have known her articles were a lot of hot air, after all, you helped her write some of them!"

"Hermione, you and Harry were always together," Pansy pointed out, from the shelter of the twins' laps. "You LOOKED like you were dating."

"Harry's GAY!" bellowed Hermione, breathless with mirth. "He's never been the least bit interested in me! And I've never been interested in him, what with his permanently messy hair, Quidditch obsession, endless competitiveness and foul temper. You and Harry are a perfect match, Draco!"

"You're not one to talk about messy hair, Hermione," said Harry indignantly. He shivered with pleasure, when Draco ran a Grooming Charm through his unruly locks.

Ron was bewildered. "What are you two fighting about? You don't fancy each other. You've never fancied each other. Have you?" he asked nervously, as if he didn't fancy the thought of Harry's competition.

"No, we've never fancied each other, Ron, but Draco was still jealous," said Hermione. She laughed. "I was the Mudblood Harry dared to be friends with, when he wouldn't be friends with Draco! Draco was always calling attention to my lack of magical breeding, because it was the worst thing that HE, being a pure-blood, could think of. It didn't even occur to him, Harry, that you didn't care!"

Draco squirmed.

"Calling you a Mudblood only made me hate him more. It didn't make me hate you," said Harry.

"Precisely. What a stupid, messy, painful relationship you two have had! But it's all due to the fact Draco liked you very, very much at first, Harry, and you disappointed him. People do stupid things when strong emotions are involved," said Hermione.

"Like the time you set a flock of canaries on me, because I was dating Lavender Brown?" said Ron, rather cruelly.

Now it was Hermione's turn to blush. The Slytherins burst out laughing. "Precisely," said Hermione, with as much dignity as she could muster, after the laughter had died down. She looked at Draco. "Didn't you realise, while you were sulking and brooding over the fact Harry wanted nothing to do with you, a single magic word could have brought him over? A word that could have ended all the fighting between the Houses?"

Everyone stared at her. "A single magic word could have stopped the fighting? WHAT magic word?" Draco asked, leaning forward as if hoping to learn a spell of indescribable power.

"SORRY!" said Hermione, laughing, and Draco sat back with a disappointed expression on his face.

"Just sorry?" he asked.

"Yes! It would have changed everything. SORRY, Harry, I called your friend Hermione a Mudblood. SORRY, I called Ron a blood traitor. SORRY I've been making your life a misery for so long. I just wanted your attention. Can we please be friends?"

"It wouldn't have worked," said Draco. "Harry and Ron would have just mocked me."

Hermione frowned at her friends. "Maybe," she said. "It takes a big event to make these two forget to be enemies with someone. It took a troll, for me. And it took V-Voldemort for you." She ignored the winces all around her.

"If Malfoy had apologised to Harry Potter during school, the Dark Lord would have seen it in his head and killed him," said Theodore bluntly.

"I know," said Hermione. "Maybe it's for the best that we're all friends now, and not then? The Sorting Hat did keep singing about how all the Houses needed to be friends and it must know what it's talking about. It's over a thousand years old."

"It's still just a hat, though," said Harry. "Hermione, you still haven't given me any proof that Draco loved me, or wanted to shag me, before the Vow. Yes, he had an unhealthy obsession-"

Draco cut him off with a sneer. "Speaking of unhealthy, what's the matter with your hair, Harry? It's fighting off my Grooming Charm."

Harry put his hand up and felt his hair was, as usual, sticking up messily.

"Is that the only part of your body that sticks up when you don't want it to?" teased Draco, in a suggestive voice that made Harry blush and everyone else chuckle.

"I'm sorry, Harry," said Hermione. "But however Draco felt about you, the Vow is partially your fault-"

"So I have to date a boy, forever, who doesn't love me or fancy me," said Harry.

"That's right," said Theodore brutally.

"He cared for you at first, Harry, so it's not too unlikely that he can truly be your friend," said Hermione. When Harry looked doubtful, she added, "I'm sorry, Harry, but there's no alternative. You have to be with Draco."

Ginny kicked furiously at the mattress and Ron leaned his chin on his hand and looked glum.

Nobody spoke for a while. Then Draco, who had been staring into space, looked up. He hesitated before he spoke. "Harry. I do have proof that I fancied you before the Vow-"

"Well, let's hear it then," said Theodore. Even Crabbe and Goyle managed to look interested.

"Is it sexy?" asked Blaise, with a sleazy grin.

Draco bit his lip. "Uh..."

"Spit it out, Malfoy!" said Blaise. "I can't believe you haven't told us already. You've always been into full disclosure!"

"You won't want to hear about THIS memory."

"Rubbish! We're all ears, Malfoy."

With a determined set of his pointed chin, Draco said, "It's the memory Voldemort put into my head, when he made me a Death Eater." There was silence. "Still want to know, Zabini?"

Abruptly, Blaise got to his feet, shaking the overloaded bed. "It's just occurred to me that I'm already in the Dark Lord's bad books as it is. I don't want to make him angrier. Sexy or not, I think I'll give your memory a miss, Malfoy." He walked towards the stairs, and the bed rocked, as everyone but Draco and Harry followed him, muttering goodbyes.

Hermione was the last to leave. She gave Harry a grim nod, through the open door, and followed everyone else downstairs.

Draco pointed his wand at the door, and it shut and locked.

"Can I use Legilimency?" asked Harry. The feeling of dread had returned.

Draco nodded, but as Harry raised his wand, Draco wrapped his hand around it.

"Wait, Harry. I'm not sure this is a good idea." Draco took a deep breath. "Do you still love me? Despite the diary?"

"Yes," said Harry, puzzled.

Expelling the breath, Draco said. "Then I REALLY don't want to show you. Once you've see how Voldemort tempted me, Harry ... you're going to HATE me..."

oOoOoOo

_**Author's Notes**: What secret desires did Voldemort tease out of Draco's head? It's all in ... the next chapter. Bwahahahaha! ;-)_

_ Review time! Please review and I'll think up extra kinky desires for Draco... ;-)_

_ The Harry Potter wizard card is out of an old Harry Potter video game. It was card number 100, I seem to recall, but I can't recall the name of the game._

_ **Replies to reviews:**_

_ Thank you to the following people for reviewing: lonley.hopelessly-romantic, Muchacha, FloofWolfe, WarriorsSword6, Fmh, 6tigercubs, Norwegian MoonShadow, Emu Alive and Kicking, Weissgal35, Moyima, BonneNuit, Fred kissed George, Your Mom Is My Heart., dracoizumi, bellajen94, Eagle-Eyes, Anissina June, Silvermane1, LunaSky, ThePotionsMiss, jinxgirl71, sasunaru lover, Riku-Rocks, Bad fairy, MaisaG, keske, Night Air, Silver-Tiger-Fira, _

_ NinjaoftheDarkness, Potter's Wifey, Yellowwolf, hearts. CatWriter, Moonsign, Crowley Black, and thrnbrooke._

_ Hodemi: Thanks for your review. I think Draco's friends might have preferred Azkaban to the Vow. The thing about Azkaban is that at some point, you can get out. But an Unbreakable Vow? It remains to be seen if Draco can escape. ;-)_

_ ProperT: LOL! Thanks for reviewing. I stuck some flirtation between Fred and George, and Pansy, into this chapter because you suggested it! ;-) _


	29. The Temptation of Draco

_**Author's Note:** I'm not sure if this counts as non-consensual as it's a fictional account inside another fictional account. Bottom line - it's not real, folks!_

oOoOoOo

**The Bodyguard**

** Chapter 29: The Temptation of Draco**

"What did Voldemort put into your mind, when he made you a Death Eater?" Harry gazed into his boyfriend's wide, grey eyes, and felt hurt when he saw the unperturbed mask go up. "You don't need to use Occlumency. Why are you so afraid of showing me the memory, if it proves you desired me before the Vow?"

"It's proof of a lot of other things too, Harry." Draco hung his head and his white-blond hair fell forward to cover his face.

"I've seen part of that memory. Wasn't it that misty bedroom, where you were really ... turned on?" asked Harry. He was bursting with curiosity. "That wasn't bad-"

"Turned on? Ha! That's putting it mildly," said Draco with a bitter chuckle. "But the rest of it isn't ... the sort of thing I'd like you to see ...Voldemort twisted my mind and fed me lies."

Harry looked at his boyfriend's slumped form on the bed beside him, and reached out tenderly. "I swear I won't hate you, Draco. Voldemort has lied to me too." He caressed his boyfriend's silky hair. "Voldemort used to have a direct connection to my mind, through my scar. I could feel his thoughts, sense what he was feeling and see what he was seeing. He used to send me lying visions through the connection."

Unprotected, pale grey eyes met his own. "Through your scar?" Draco ran a finger down the thin, lightning bolt on Harry's forehead and shuddered. "Merlin, I hate this scar even more ... does he still send you lies?"

"He hasn't for ages. Not since he noticed the connection, and started using Occlumency. I've barely given my scar a thought since then," said Harry. "I heard he gave you a scar too, Draco. Dobby told me Voldemort cut you on the arm when you were one-"

"Yes, Voldemort found me playing with Muggle children: a girl and a boy. They were older than me. Eight, I think. I don't remember their names and I don't know how they found their way in through the wards around Malfoy Mansion. I know Mother tightened the wards afterwards." Draco took a deep, shuddering breath. "I never saw those children again. I hadn't thought about it, but I guess what Voldemort did to my arm was nothing compared to what he did to them..." Draco hugged his legs, and rested his pointed chin on his knees. "The scar on my arm is long gone, Harry. Normal scars heal and fade away..." Harry felt his boyfriend's eyes rake across his forehead. "But your scar hasn't changed or healed in all these years. I'm telling you Harry, it's a THING not a scar. It's something Voldemort sunk into your skull when you were a baby. Now you're saying you're linked to him through it?" He stretched out his legs, and put his face close to Harry's, staring him right in the eye. "Go to St Mungo's and get your scar cut out - NOW, Harry! I'm serious!"

"I will for you, Draco, but not today. We have to meet your ex-Head of House." Harry reached into his pocket and pulled out Snape's letter. He handed it to Draco, who skimmed it and looked up. "Do you know where the greasy git's favourite chair is?" Harry asked.

"It's at Malfoy Mansion, in Father's study," Draco replied, handing the letter back to Harry. "I wonder why he wants to see us so badly?"

"I don't know, but I have a bad feeling about it," Harry muttered.

"Me too. What does he want Nagini's body for? Whose side is he on?"

They were both silent for a while. These were impossible questions to answer.

"Will you please let me see your memory?" Harry couldn't contain his curiosity any longer.

Draco sighed. "All right. You can look. But please don't hold it against me. When I was made a Death Eater, there was so much I didn't understand..."

He looked deep into Harry's eyes. Harry grasped his wand and thought, Legilimens.

oOoOoOo

The Death Eaters came for him at sunset...

There were two of them, walking boldly down the driveway of Malfoy Mansion, their feet crunching in the pale gravel, their white masks standing out starkly from their black robes.

Draco let the green velvet curtain fall back, and leaned on an inlaid, antique table, trying to still his gasps of terror. He knew why they were here ... they were going to take him to the Dark Lord ... he was going to be Marked...

...but only if he was lucky. If the Dark Lord didn't like what he found in his mind, Draco would die in agony...

He was overcome with guilty, terrified doubts. Judgement day was here, and he would live or die, depending how good a pure-blood he had been. Had he been rude enough to Mudbloods? To blood traitors? What thought crimes had he committed? Would the Dark Lord find him worthy?

Draco wanted to flee, but nowhere on Earth was far enough to be safe. Yesterday's Daily Prophet rested on the table, headline screaming that Igor Karkaroff's body had been found, with the Dark Mark floating overhead. If Draco fled, he would assuredly die within a year, but if he went with the Death Eaters, he might die tonight...

As he stood there hyperventilating, he heard Mother's voice, calling down from the upper floor.

"Draco, love? I can hear people outside..."

And in that moment, he made his decision. He had to go with the Death Eaters, putting on the best show of bravery and confidence that he could manage. He couldn't let Mother see them.

Since Father had been caught at the Ministry and thrown in Azkaban (curse that Harry Potter!) Mother had been increasingly haunted by the idea that her beloved only child would be taken and Marked, as his replacement. Nothing terrified her more. He'd overheard her talking to Aunt Bellatrix. "Surely, he can serve the Dark Lord in other ways; he doesn't have to take the Mark." His aunt's reply had been inaudible, but her sneer eloquent.

Whenever he asked Mother why she didn't want him Marked - terrifying as it was, wasn't it an honour? - she'd muttered, flustered, that he needed to finish his education ... needed to wait until he was older ... needed to understand ... but she never told him what he needed to understand. Why did she still treat him like a child? It was infuriating. He was sixteen now, and the man of the house, since Father had been incarcerated.

Draco thought, if Mother sees the Death Eaters, she'll shame our family by begging them on her knees not to take me ... or she'll fight them ... and they'll kill her.

"I'll answer the door, Mother. No need to get up," he called out, hoping she wouldn't notice the strain in his voice.

Pulling on a thick, travelling cloak, Draco hurried down the stairs and reached the vast, intricately carved double front doors, just as a heavy knock sounded. With a show of confidence he didn't feel, he threw the doors open.

The two Death Eaters loomed over him, holding their stubby, twisted wands in his face.

"The Dark Lord wishes to see you," intoned one.

"I'm ready," he drawled, swaggering outside, closing the doors behind him and turning to gaze at the Death Eaters with aristocratic haughtiness. "Take those wands out of my face. How dare you! I'm a Malfoy."

Inwardly, he marvelled that his voice sounded steady...

oOoOoOo

He couldn't help the last, longing glance over his shoulder, at his beloved, ancestral home, as the Death Eaters led him away, one on either side of him.

The sunset had turned the white walls of Malfoy Mansion blood red. A curtain flicked and Mother's pale oval face appeared in an upstairs window. He saw the curtain suddenly fall closed and he turned away.

He knew Mother would be sprinting down the stairs, desperate to intercept the Death Eaters who had stolen her baby. In a minute, she would come tearing out of the front doors, like an avenging angel.

But by then, they would be gone.

A small amount of satisfaction and relief tempered Draco's terror. Mother was safe.

For now...

oOoOoOo

He didn't know where the Death Eaters had brought him. It was cold and the air was rank with decay. The labyrinthine brick-walled tunnels resembled an old sewer. Stinking water dripped down the walls, reflecting the guttering flames of candles. Their feet splashed through puddles, as the Death Eaters escorted him, without a word, to the Dark Lord. Draco was trembling with fear, and he wondered if they noticed.

I won't beg. That was Draco's one coherent thought. He'd heard of the effect the Dark Lord had on otherwise dignified people. He did something to their minds, which made them crawl at his feet and kiss the hem of his robes, begging to be of service. Even Father had sported a manic expression of desperate desire, after the Dark Lord's return. And Aunt Bellatrix was more obsessed with the Dark Lord, than with her own husband.

Draco heard the sound of voices coming from up ahead. The tunnel opened up into a large chamber, with grey smoke drifting overhead from the flickering candles that lined the walls. Standing on a podium, in centre of the chamber, was a tall, gaunt figure, black robed, with skin as unnaturally pale as salt, red eyes and long, spidery fingers. The most terrifying person Draco had ever seen - Lord Voldemort.

The Dark Lord was not alone. Ten Death Eaters, anonymous under their heavy black robes and white masks, stood below the podium, gazing up intently. On the podium, kneeling at the Dark Lord's feet, was a tiny Death Eater, as heavily masked and robed as the others. But Draco recognised him from his cringing posture. Wormtail...

The Dark Lord's high-pitched voice tore at Draco's nerves and made his knees go weak. "You will be Severus Snape's servant, Wormtail. Report back to me daily about his activities."

"But my Lord-" Wormtail was indignant.

The nerve-shattering voice cut him off. "You presume question to my order?"

"No, my Lord."

"Good. Go now!"

Wormtail bowed his head sulkily in acquiescence. Then his body shrank as he transformed, and a balding, grey rat scampered away from the Dark Lord's feet, and was lost among the other scuttling rat shadows in the chamber.

Draco's heart froze, as the hairless, noseless head turned, and the red eyes focused on him.

"And now, we have the latest recruit to our family ... or our body count," the Dark Lord sneered.

The Death Eaters laughed horribly.

"Bring him here!" The Dark Lord, beckoned the two flanking Death Eaters. They grabbed Draco roughly by the upper arms, dragged him across the chamber, and flung him onto the podium at the Dark Lord's feet. Then they joined the throng of Death Eaters.

Painfully, Draco raised his head. The Dark Lord's black, polished shoes, and the hem of his robe were close enough to touch. I will not kiss them, he thought.

"Kneel before me, Draco Malfoy. Look into my eyes."

Draco did as he was told, too frightened to protest. With as much dignity as he could muster, he straightened his back and stared into those vertical pupils.

"Ah, you defy me. So soon, Draco," said the Dark Lord, with a feral grin. "I like to see a boy with spirit." His grin widened. "Oh, you're not a boy? You're sixteen and you're the man of the house? You hate being treated like a child?" His bared teeth were as straight and white as tombstones.

The Death Eaters laughed.

I'm an open book to him, thought Draco, horrified, all his previous feelings of guilt rushing up.

"Indeed. An open book..." The pitiless red eyes stared into his, and Draco felt the Dark wizard going through his mind, like a curious shopper walking the aisles of a bookshop: picking up a book here and there, exploring, examining, choosing.

He tasted the Dark Lord's mind - more alien than an animal's, for it was a mind without love.

"Love is worthless. Whatever that old fool Dumbledore might say."

Draco heard the Death Eaters mumbling in agreement, but his mind filled with images of the majestic, white-haired headmaster.

"Do you wish to be mine, Draco?" asked the Dark Lord suddenly.

"Yes, sir, I-"

"Don't lie to me, Draco. I can always tell when someone is lying to me." The Dark Lord stepped closer, black robe sweeping the floor. "You do not wish to be mine. I see it in your worthless mind. You do not think the rewards are sufficient."

Draco shivered.

"Perhaps you believe the rewards from serving that Muggle-loving fool Dumbledore would be greater?" Voldemort asked, his red eyes venomous.

"Sir, I'd never ... he put my father into Azkaban-"

"But still, you respect him." Draco spluttered something incoherent, but was silenced by the venomous red eyes.

The Dark Lord's tone became patronising. "Sixteen-year-old man, who doesn't want to be treated like a child ... perhaps you would rather be at home with your precious mother, playing on your racing broom, and collecting every Harry Potter article ever printed?"

The Death Eaters gasped.

Draco was struck dumb. NOBODY knew about that shameful collection in his diary. The red eyes glared down, waiting for an explanation. With a tongue that felt dry and rubbery in his mouth, Draco stuttered, "I-I h-hate Harry P-Potter, sir." An image of Potter's face, luminous green eyes behind those dorky round glasses, came into his mind and hardened his resolve. Potter had put Father into Azkaban. Oh, he was going to get even with the Gryffindor, if it were the last thing he ever did...

The red eyes bored into him. Suddenly, the grating, high-pitched voice was softer. "Perhaps you require a little ... persuasion ... to serve me, Draco. Lord Voldemort rewards his servants well. Dumbledore cannot give you what you truly desire, Draco. Only I can."

Draco stared back in confusion. Then he shuddered. The Dark Lord's long hand, with spidery fingers, was trailing over his hair. Those fingers were icy cold...

"How well do you know your true heart's desire, Draco? Lord Voldemort knows all things - even those things that men do not know about themselves." The cold fingers stroked down the side of Draco's face, and came to rest under his pointed chin. Then they squeezed tight and held his head still, in a grip of iron. Draco trembled with disgust at the touch, but strove to conceal it. "Tell me what you desire, Draco. If you serve me well, you will receive it in reality."

Consumed by those burning eyes, Draco felt the tip of a wand touch his forehead. "Erised!" said the Dark Lord, and the real world spun away.

oOoOoOo

"What do you desire?"

Such an exciting question! Draco was vaguely aware that he still knelt at the Dark Lord's feet, but all he could see were the treasures, piled high around him, sparkling and clamouring for his attention. The world brimmed with boundless possibilities for delight, and he was as full of anticipation, as a five-year-old on Christmas morning.

What DID he desire? He could have anything!

Somewhere in his head, a cynical voice that sounded like Mother, reminded him nothing came for free, and that he would pay a price for these treasures that that wouldn't be measured in galleons, but that voice was easy to ignore. Distracting, desirable objects were all around. Everything Draco had ever wanted was here.

He shouted with joy, as he laid eyes on forgotten things that he had, once-upon-a-time, set his heart on: a toy racing broom, capable of flying as high as the chimneys of Malfoy Mansion. He would have sold his soul for it, when he was five. Other objects clamoured for his attention. A Time Turner, glinting with the promise of twisting time any way he chose! His own sweet shop - the shelves piled high with his favourite chocolates, their wrappers glistening and gleaming like jewels. Cho Chang's beautiful face. How he had longed to snog her!

But that cynical voice in his head sneered at the treasures. A five-year-old's racing broom? It wouldn't even bear his weight now. Time Turners were incredibly dangerous, and not a toy. Besides, all the Ministry Time Turners had been smashed. A lifetime's supply of chocolate? Sickening! His taste for chocolate had been blunted forever by the parcels of sweets Mother had sent him every day at Hogwarts. Cho Chang? Worst snog he had ever had!

As if his dissatisfaction had been heard, more desirable temptations rose up to meet his eye. He saw himself as the greatest Seeker in the world, zooming effortlessly past a jealous and pouting Harry Potter to grab the fluttering snitch. He saw himself as Minister of Magic, kicking the Mudbloods and blood traitors out of Hogwarts, and sending a penitent Harry Potter to Azkaban for good measure. What a glorious feeling!

"I can make you Minister of Magic, if you serve me," a loveless, alien voice, echoed through his mind.

But ... no ... you don't truly want to be Minister of Magic. Think of the hard work and the popularity polls, whispered the cynical voice.

There was a trace of impatience in the loveless voice now. "You need to try harder, Draco. Tell me what you want."

Draco did try harder, wondering why his mind was resisting.

Can't you guess? The cynical voice sneered.

Straining to imagine what he desired most, Draco grinned when Harry Potter's Firebolt appeared, polished handle gleaming. The scent of it did something strange to his nether regions. Oh yes! He'd been so jealous of Harry and had begged Father to buy him a Firebolt, but Father had refused. He'd said a nearly new Nimbus 2001 was a more than acceptable school Quidditch racing broom, and he'd remained adamant, even through the worst tantrum Draco had thrown since he was three. Now the polished perfection of the Firebolt floated in front of Draco...

But then it faded. There was something else he desired, something much deeper in his mind, which prevented everything else from holding his attention.

"You try my patience, Draco," the loveless voice snarled.

Draco wondered, who would I be, if I could be anyone?

Abruptly, he WAS Harry Potter. The entire attention of the wizarding world was being heaped upon him and he gloried in it. Girls threw themselves at him. Dumbledore gave him hundreds of house points. The Minister for Magic pardoned his every action, and invited him to every Ministry function...

But the cynical voice was frightened now and snapped at him. Don't be Potter! The Dark Lord wants Potter dead!

Such a jolt of terror went through Draco that he temporarily broke free of the vision. He caught a glimpse of red eyes glaring down at him, and felt the cold fingers clamped around his chin, before the vision claimed him again.

His fear turned to fury. Everything was Potter's fault! Rage flooded through him and he saw Potter's green-eyed face rising up in front of him, saw Potter's clenched fist ready to strike. Faster than Potter, Draco balled up his own fist, punched him hard in the nose, heard it break, and watched him fall. Draco screamed in triumph. He'd done it! At long last, he'd fought Potter and won!

But something else lurked below the triumph - corrosive guilt. The blood pouring out of Potter's nose as he struggled on the ground was ... frightening. The cynical voice sniggered. Are you going to faint at the sight of blood, Draco? Since when have you relied on punches, instead of harsh words? And since when have you been faster than Potter? This vision is a LIE!

The bloodied Potter stared up with unbeaten, hate-filled eyes and Draco quailed. If this were real, Potter would leap up and proceed to beat the stuffing out of you, as usual, sneered the cynical voice. Breaking Potter's nose is worth boasting about for a few days, but it's ultimately a hollow victory. You don't desire Potter's hate - you've already got it!

"Enough!" The alien voice snarled. "I grow tired of waiting for you to make up your mind. You are lazy and spoiled! If you will not tell me what you desire ... I WILL FIND OUT!"

Draco's mind burned as the alien mind plunged mercilessly into him and searched him to the core. He felt the Dark Lord's tendrils right inside him, in his heart and soul, deeper than he'd ever gone himself. He screamed silently.

Confused sensations went through his head. Green eyes. A hand lifted in friendship. Warm skin. Touch without pain. The sweet scent of treacle tart. The woodsy scent of a Firebolt broom handle. Tears of agony and emotion rose in his eyes. He thrashed, but the icy cold hand on his jaw held his head steady.

He felt some essential part of his mind being sucked into those red eyes. The cynical voice, which had been screaming at him to shield his mind, fell silent.

The glittering treasures faded and he stood in warm darkness. The alien presence was still in his mind, but he no longer cared. With a floaty sense of wellbeing he saw a dark wood door, embossed with bronze, appear before him.

The alien voice spoke, and Draco listened without fear.

"In this room, you will find what you most desire. Enter."

"Yes, my Lord," said Draco obediently.

He pushed open the door, and walked into a tapestried bedroom, containing a vast four-poster bed, with its green drapes drawn. The bedroom was lavishly decorated. To Draco, it looked like a honeymoon suite in an expensive, magical hotel. A fire burned in the heath, below a mantelpiece decorated with carved serpents. There was a thick, lush bearskin rug on the hearth.

As he stared at the bed, such a wild feeling of desire and desperate longing overcame over him that he hunched over and hugged himself.

He could not see the mist, which swirled around the room.

"Unwrap your gift, Draco. It is only a taste of what I can offer you. When I have come to power, with your help, it will be yours in reality," whispered the cold voice.

"Thank you, my Lord," said Draco. He closed the door and walked towards the bed. He felt like a five-year-old, about to unwrap a fascinating Christmas present, but something in his trousers told him he wasn't five years old.

He didn't know what he was about to receive. He drew the curtain and gasped.

Harry Potter was lying on the bed. He was naked, unconscious, and relaxed. Leather straps bound him to the bedposts by his wrists and ankles. His eyes were demurely closed, his long black lashes rested against his cheek, and he wasn't wearing his usual round glasses. His face looked naked without them, but not as naked as the rest of his body.

On the pillow by his head rested an ornate dagger, and a tiny crystal bottle of clear liquid.

A surge of desire, so strong it was almost painful, made Draco hug himself. What could he do to the Gryffindor? Anything! The possibilities were boundless. At last he knew what he truly desired - absolute power over Harry Potter!

Draco kicked off his shoes and climbed onto the bed, next to Potter. He reached for the crystal bottle, opened it and cautiously sniffed it. Veritaserum. He uncapped the bottle, and let the contents trickle into Potter's mouth. Potter swallowed reflexively. Draco threw the empty bottle over his shoulder, heedless of where it landed. The he looked down, gloating and rubbing his hands together with glee. What would he do to his rival?

At first, only thoughts of revenge came to mind. Potter had been victorious over him so many times. It was about time Potter found out what losing was like, and the leather straps meant the Gryffindor couldn't retaliate. Potter would be black and blue, with bat bogies flapping all over his face, by the time Draco had finished with him...

Or he would be dead. Draco picked up the ornate dagger and tested the blade against his finger. It was sharp. It would give no resistance if he stabbed it downwards...

It occurred to him he could take Potter apart, piece by piece, and Potter would not be able to stop him. But the thought of blood, screaming and body fragments sickened Draco.

Besides, he'd only get one chance to chop Potter up, he reasoned. If he left Potter whole, he'd possess him ... forever!

Draco put the knife back on the pillow and feasted his eyes on his new possession. He'd never seen Potter naked, and Colin Creevy had been banned, along with his camera, from the Quidditch change rooms.

Potter was ... beautiful. His skin was darker than Draco's and without blemish. Giving into his desire to touch him, Draco pressed his hand against the centre of his chest, lifted it, and saw the white mark he had left darken gently, until it was the same colour as the rest of his skin. There was something so sensual about being next to Harry like this. He had been hard since he entered the room, somehow knowing what sort of thing his heart's desire would entail. His mind hadn't known, but another part of him had.

He ran his hand over Potter's chest, fascinated, watching the gentle expansion and contraction of his ribcage as he breathed. Feeling the strong, regular heartbeat against his hand. He ran his hand over Potter's nipples and watched them contract against his fingers, ran his hands over their pebbled surface. He stroked the sides of Potter's chest, feeling the corrugated trace of ribs under his hand.

Despite being unconscious, Potter was responding just a little, to Draco's ministrations. He was breathing a little faster and he moaned softly.

Draco leaned forward, wrapped an arm around Potter and buried his face in his neck and hair, breathing in his fresh, woodsy scent, like a handle of a Firebolt. With his cheek resting on Potter's shoulder, he looked down his body, and saw his cock resting, sleeping, on a cushion of black curls. Draco couldn't resist. His hand went to it, ran up and down it, closed around it and stroked it. Potter moaned faintly and moved his hips.

"Oh God, you're so beautiful," Draco heard himself say. Clearly his heart's desire wasn't what he thought. He didn't want to kill Potter, or destroy that delicate masculine beauty. He wanted ... he wanted to humiliate Potter. Yes! That had to be it! What would it be like to have Potter begging him - for attention, for friendship, for his touch, for love? And to have Draco reject him? There was only one way to find out...

"Enervate!"

Potter's eyes snapped open and he gasped in shock. He tried to sit up, but his bonds held him tightly to the bed and he struggled against them in a panic. Draco sat on the bed at Potter's side, watching his struggles with a cool smirk.

"Hullo, Potter. Have I got your attention at last?"

oOoOoOo

_**Author's Notes:** Please review!_

_ **Replies to reviews:**_

_ Thank you to the following people for reviewing: 3-left-turns, carissa, death by storm, Ash of Slytherin, Wolf-of-dragon13, hearts. ThePotionsMiss, Kittendragon, GenX-Revolution, AngelLuva, NinjaoftheDarkness, LunaSky, Muchacha, bellajen94, fufu.a.k.a.speechless, Anissina June, Fmh, 6tigercubs, ProperT, GreenEyedCatDragon, thrnbrooke, Ripuku, Moonsign, Moyima, Crowley Black, Potter's Wifey, Silver-Tiger-Fira, Yellowwolf, and CatWriter._

_ sasunaru lover: Thanks for reviewing! Hope you get your internet back soon!_

_ Riku-Rocks: Thanks! I think canon Draco and Harry could have been good friends too. Maybe they will be in Deathly Hallows? Hope so ... because I suppose a little canon slash is too much to hope for! ;-) _

_ Tempest in Blue: Thanks for the review! Ginny wasn't surprised at the Harry / Draco situation because her parents and her twin brothers had warned her what to expect. Besides, she's long since worked out - HARRY'S GAY! ;-)_

_ Jamari: Thanks for pointing out the continuity error. I went back and fixed it right away, making Harry suspicious about Draco's apology outside the Wizengamot, because the cunning Slytherin was in such dire straits at the time. That sort of continuity error happens when the author has the memory of a goldfish, she's written over 110,000 words, and none of her six beta readers responded to chapter 28. (I think I killed them by writing too much! ;-) By rights, I should go back through the chapters and make sure that continuity error doesn't pop up anywhere else, but I have to churn out a chapter every few days to finish before Deathly Hallows comes out, so I don't have time. Sorry about that!_

_ rekahneko: I find Snape an amusing character as well. He's got a wonderful, British dry sense of humour. _


	30. Mercy: Shagging!

_**Slash Warning: This chapter contains graphic descriptions of men shagging other men. Slash, in other words. If slash bothers you, or if you are too young to be legally reading that sort of thing, please stop reading now.**_

**_Author's Notes:_**_ And Draco's vision of his greatest desire continues. But Voldemort is watching..._

_ Again, I'm not sure if this counts as non-consensual as it's a fictional account inside another fictional account. There's nothing real about it, people!_

oOoOoOo

**The Bodyguard**

** Chapter 30: Mercy**

Potter lifted his head. He blushed crimson when he realised he was naked, half-hard, tied to the bedposts by his wrists and ankles, and unable to stop Draco's feasting eyes.

"Malfoy, what do you think you're doing? Let me go!"

"Not even if you ask me nicely, Potter," said Draco. He was beside himself with joy. At long last, Precious Potter was at his mercy!

But Potter glared at him, his emerald-green eyes fierce and perfectly focused, despite the lack of his dorky, round glasses. He thrashed against his bonds and swore loudly at his captor.

"Language, Potter," said Draco lazily. "I'll have to punish you for that." He stroked a hand, from Potter's perfect knees, to his chest, and was delighted when the Gryffindor trembled and moaned involuntarily at his touch.

For a moment, Potter looked astonished at the vehemence of his own reaction, then Draco saw him trying to hide his embarrassment behind bluster. "Where's Ron? Where's Hermione?" Potter demanded.

The alien voice whispered in Draco's mind.

"Well might you ask, Potter. You missed out on so much by choosing the Weasel and the Mudblood over me. Doesn't matter anymore - they're dead. You're all mine now!"

Potter's eyes widened. "Dead?"

"So it would appear."

"But I was dating Hermione..." Potter looked somewhat taken aback.

"No great loss. She was cheating on you with at least one other boy," said Draco scathingly, remembering the Rita Skeeter article.

Potter seemed to think about this. He didn't look too concerned, with either the news of his friends' deaths or of Hermione's cheating.

Draco stared down at his trapped rival. "Scared, Potter?" he asked, trying to keep the hope out of his voice.

The green eyes looked up, full of contempt. "You wish!" Potter sneered. Then his eyes nearly popped out of his head. Draco had tweaked his nipple.

"You should be scared, Potter," said the Slytherin, smirking. "You just wait! I'll have you begging for my touch-"

Potter's lip curled scornfully. "Never!"

In response, Draco leaned over and licked the nipple he'd just tweaked, feeling it grow erect under his tongue, and hearing Potter's indrawn breath. He sucked the pebbled surface and heard his rival groan indistinctly.

"What was that?" asked Draco, lifting his head.

Potter didn't answer, but merely glared back with furious eyes.

Smirking, and maintaining eye contact Draco lowered his head and licked daintily at the nipple, watching desire flare in his rival's eyes.

"Oh, please..."

Draco rested his chin on Potter's warm chest. "Begging already?" he teased.

"No!" snapped Potter. But he was beginning to look a bit hot and bothered.

"No?" asked Draco. "You mean, not even if I do this?" He turned his attentions to the other nipple, and soon had it as erect as its twin. Potter moaned and writhed under his tongue. "I say!" Draco said, peeking along his rival's body, where Potter's cock was unfurling and swelling. "You LOVE this!"

Potter frowned, and shook his head, despite the growing evidence to the contrary. Fury made his emerald eyes bright. But words seemed to burst out of him, without conscious intent. "Your tongue feels so good, Malfoy!" Potter's eyes widened, and he bit his lip, looking mortified.

Draco smirked. "This will feel better," he promised, looking deep into Potter's eyes, and trailing a hand down his belly, until he reached his belly button. He dipped his index finger inside, watching his rival gasp and twitch, and slid his hand down further, stopping just shy of Potter's now fully erect cock.

"Want my hand to go lower, Potter?"

Potter arched against his bonds, trying to bring Draco's hand into contact.

But Draco held his hand steady and his expression hardened. "Beg me!" he demanded.

The Gryffindor's face was dewy with perspiration, and Draco was delighted to see it was taking all his strength not to beg.

"Not quite ready to beg yet, Potter? You will be. I'll have to work on you a little longer." Draco leaned forward and lavished kissed all over that long, tanned neck. Potter moaned and tipped his head back, giving Draco full access to his throat.

Slowly, tenderly, Draco drove his rival over the edge. He kissed his way up and down Potter's body, trailing kisses along his chest and throat, sucking his earlobes and the place where his neck met his shoulder. But then he stopped and looked Potter in the eye. Their lips were almost touching.

Potter was panting, and it ruffled Draco's hair. As if about to kiss him on the mouth, Draco leaned forward. Potter closed his eyes, and lifted his head to meet him, but then Slytherin drew back, watching his rival's passionately closed eyes and smirking mischievously.

The Gryffindor opened his eyes, and his frustration and anger were clear. "Stop teasing me."

"What's that, Potter? You actually WANT me to kiss you?"

Potter glared, and struggled against his bonds.

"Beg me! Say, Malfoy, please kiss me!" ordered Draco. He heard his rival mutter something indistinct. "What was that, Potter? I didn't quite catch what you said."

Potter's eyes burned. "I said, Malfoy, kiss me!" It was hard to tell whether Potter's flush was anger or desire now.

Draco leaned forward, Potter raised his head for the kiss, eyes open this time, but before their lips touched, Draco drew back again, laughing wickedly.

"No, Potter. You didn't ask me nicely enough."

"Malfoy, please kiss me!"

"Ask me again!"

"Please kiss me, Malfoy!" Humiliation made Potter's cheeks burn.

"What would the Gryffindors say, Potter, if they saw you begging me, of all people, for a kiss?"

Potter's humiliation was complete. For the first time, he was pleading. "I don't care what they'd say, Malfoy! Please kiss me, I beg you!"

Draco took pity on him at last and crushed their lips hungrily together. He ravaged Potter's mouth with his tongue, and Potter kissed him back, moaning with desire. As they kissed, Draco lay down on top of him and rubbed his fully clothed body again Potter's naked one.

He drew his lips away and Potter strained after him, sticking out his tongue. Draco leaned back in and sucked the tongue into his own mouth, and they kissed again.

Then Potter groaned, as the Slytherin kissed back down his naked body. Draco took his time, losing himself in the tastes and scents. He'd never felt more triumphant or turned on.

When he reached Potter's belly, Draco paused and licked his lips. He wanted take him into his mouth, but he could see Potter wanted it too. The green eyes stared at him, desperate and pleading. Draco let his breath caress Potter's cock, and the Gryffindor arched in his bonds, but he couldn't bring himself any closer to Draco's mouth.

Draco allowed himself a smirk. "Tell me you want me," he said.

"I want you, Malfoy," said Potter, and for the first time, there was submission in his eyes, as if desire had nearly broken him.

Draco could have hugged himself with delight.

"Want me to suck you?"

"Oh, yes! Please!" Potter's messy, black hair was damp with sweat.

"Not so fast! First, answer me. How you feel about me? How long have you wanted me?"

"Malfoy, I've wanted you for years," said Potter, desire and horrified embarrassment waging war on his face. "I've wanted to run my fingers through that sleek, blond hair of yours-"

"Nice try, Potter, but I'm not setting you free," said Draco, grinning.

Potter went on, as if he hadn't been interrupted, though Draco could see he was fighting to stop himself talking. "Your skin is like ivory. I want to lick you and kiss you from head to toe. Take your cock deep in my throat and hear you moan with pleasure. Make you come. Sleep at your feet. Wake up beside you-"

"You do. It's the truth," stated Draco, who felt strangely weak and overcome at these revelations. He stared into his rival's eyes, and saw horrified realization fill them.

"You bastard! You've given me Veritaserum, haven't you? That's why I can't shut up!"

Draco nodded, grinning from ear to ear.

"You slimy ... I never would have said what I said just now ... never...!"

"But it's true!" cried Draco. "Every word is true! I OWN you, Potter. I've always owned you! Just for that, I'll give you what you want. But you'll have to tell me I'm better at it than that Mudblood, Granger."

"I haven't done much with Granger, I'm a virgin." The veins on Potter's neck were close to popping, as he tried to keep that revelation to himself.

That sounded far too good to be true, and a bit of doubt crept into Draco's mind. I'm dreaming, he thought. Life could never be that good to me. I KNOW Granger and Potter were together. But he shook his head, dispelling his doubts, and took the whole length of Potter's straining cock into his throat. He sucked hard, stroking the underside with his tongue and watching his rival come undone. He could see Potter's internal battle was over. He was conquered.

"Let me suck you, Malfoy," begged Potter, and Draco was happy to oblige. He pulled off his clothes, watched hungrily by his rival, and knelt, naked, by Potter's head. Potter eagerly accepted Draco's cock into his mouth and sucked on it. Draco pumped his hips into Potter's mouth without mercy, but Potter clearly didn't need mercy. He sucked and licked, and finally swallowed, as Draco emptied himself down Potter's throat. Draco let himself collapse on top of the Gryffindor, embraced him and caught his breath.

"I'm going to shag you now, Potter," he said, when he could breath again.

"Yes, please, Malfoy!" Potter watched with bright, submissive eyes.

"I OWN you, Potter. Completely!"

"Yes, Malfoy. I've always wanted you. Sit down on me and ride me, I beg you!"

"What would Gryffindor think if they could see you now? Begging a Slytherin for a shag?"

"I don't care, Malfoy, I need you! Please!"

Draco couldn't resist any longer. With a quickly whispered lubricant spell, he sat down on Potter's rock-hard cock, moaning with fulfilled desire. He rode him, feeling the whole length inside him, watching Potter's tortured, ecstatic face. He grabbed his own hardening cock and pulled it, overcome with lust.

"This is too good. Ahh! You're killing me, Malfoy. You're driving me crazy. I'm going to come-"

"Wait! Beg me."

"I'm going to come. Please, may I come?"

"No! Ask me again."

Potter was screaming. "Please, please, Malfoy. Let me come!"

"You may come ... now!" ordered Draco, feeling his own cock erupt, as Potter's cock came deep inside him. Panting for breath, he collapsed back down on Potter, embraced him, and stared into his eyes.

"Draco, I'm all yours," said Potter in total submission. "I love you."

THAT was it. THAT was what Draco Malfoy desired most in the world. His power over Harry Potter was complete! Potter was in love with him!

But the forgotten alien presence inside Draco screamed, as though it found love poisonous, and to Draco's utter horror, the vision around him crumbled and faded away. He had one last glimpse at the boy in his arms, eyes full of love, and Potter was gone.

The underground room reappeared. Draco found he was still kneeling at the Dark Lord's feet, but his robes were now sticky. Hot tears of loss were pouring down his cheeks.

The Dark Lord's contemptuous, murderous red eyes glared down at him. It occurred to Draco that he was about to be killed but he didn't know why and he didn't care. The cold hand, with spidery fingers, released his chin, and he fell, and grovelled shamelessly at the Dark Lord's feet

"Please, my Lord! Please bring him back!" He kissed the hem of the Dark Lord's robes, careless of the humiliation or the danger.

"No!" said the cold, high-pitched voice. The Dark wizard used his voice like a whip and his miserable victim flinched beneath him. Draco looked up and saw the wand pointing directly at his forehead. He waited, unafraid, for the Killing Curse. If he couldn't have Potter's love, he didn't want to live.

But, after an endless moment, the Dark Lord appeared to reconsider and lowered his wand. "No, perhaps you can be useful. I have a task for you."

"I will serve you, my Lord. Please-"

"I want you to kill Albus Dumbledore."

The ethics of this task, and whether it was even possible, never even entered Draco's mind, so caught up he was in the possibility of his greatest desire coming true. If the Dark Lord had ordered him to fly to the moon on his broomstick, he would have obeyed without question. "I shall, my Lord. Thank you, my Lord..." All Draco's former determination not to abase himself had gone. He was grovelling on the ground and he didn't care.

"Do not to approach Potter, until your task is done or he will reject you forever. To love you, he must lose everything. With his friends and Dumbledore alive, he doesn't have room enough in his heart for you. Kill his friends. Kill his mentor, Dumbledore. Kill the Order, and he will be yours."

And Draco believed it. He utterly believed it. "No, my Lord. I will not approach him."

"Good. Now receive your Mark."

Without hesitation, Draco lifted himself back onto his knees, pushed his left sleeve down and offered his arm. He was so desperate, he would have offered his arm if the Dark Lord had been about to cut it off.

The Dark Lord seemed to know this. His feral grin had returned. He touched the tip of his wand to Draco's forearm...

...and a bolt of searing agony went through Draco. He'd never even dreamed such pain existed, let alone that he would ever experience it. He saw his skin blistering, blackening and smoking. But his yearning for power over Potter was such, that he kept his arm steady, his screams coming out as strangled gasps.

The Dark Lord took his time, as if he enjoyed Draco's suffering, and he made the Mark large, covering Draco's entire forearm. Eons seemed to pass, and blood dripped from Draco's mouth, where he'd bitten his tongue and not even noticed.

Finally, the Dark Lord lifted his wand. The Dark Mark was emblazoned on his latest Death Eater.

The Slytherin could stay upright no longer, and he tumbled to the ground. Weakly, he looked up. "Thank you, my Lord. I will serve you."

Voldemort laughed contemptuously. "Yes, Draco. You will!"

oOoOoOo

Harry withdrew from the memory. He was sickened beyond words. A thousand emotions were at war within him. He wanted to comfort Draco. He wanted to kill him.

Draco quivered in front of him, waiting for his reaction. Judging from his downcast eyes, Harry thought he was clearly expecting the worst and decided to get the worst over with right away. "So," said he at last. "Your greatest desire is to have total domination over me."

"It was, but it's not now. I'm sorry, Harry. I knew you'd never forgive me if I showed you that memory," Draco's voice was very quiet and dignified, and Harry's heart ached, but he kept going.

"There was so much wrong with that memory I can barely list it all! Who WAS that person on the bed you had tied up? It wasn't me! There's no way I would have shrugged off Ron and Hermione's deaths like that. There's no way you could have seduced me in that situation. I would have fought back the whole time. I never would have submitted!"

Was it Harry's imagination or did Draco's shoulders slump?

But he went on relentlessly. "Since when have my knees looked normal? Since when I could I see without my glasses?" He couldn't go on. He could feel Draco's shame and grief and it made him want to weep. With a fury that was now only feigned, he added, "But you know what the worst mistake you made about me? The absolutely worst mistake?"

Draco didn't seem to realise Harry was pretending. The Slytherin shook his head, not even looking up.

"My cock is MUCH bigger than that!" laughed Harry, with mock indignation.

Startled, Draco looked up, eyes wide, and saw the loving, forgiving smile on his boyfriend's face. Astonishment spread all over his own face, as if forgiveness was the last thing he'd expected.

Harry opened his arms and Draco, after a moment's surprised hesitation, fell into his embrace, with a sound like a sob.

"I'm so sorry, Harry."

"You frustrating, kinky, power-hungry Slytherin. I love you. I nearly lost you," whispered Harry into his boyfriend's soft hair. "Voldemort was THAT close to k-killing you." He couldn't keep the stutter out of his voice.

"Of course Voldemort wanted to kill me! He'd just found out my greatest desire was to shag Harry Potter senseless," said Draco, snuggling closer. "No wonder he gave me that suicide mission! The tiny, outside chance that I'd kill Dumbledore, was the only thing that saved my life."

"I hate Voldemort," muttered Harry, nuzzling his boyfriend's ear.

"Me too. The lies he fed me, Harry! Telling me your heart wasn't big enough to hold Hermione, Ron and I at the same time! That's not how love works! I was in a daze for a few weeks after Voldemort Marked me, but his lies were so obvious that I snapped out of it. Then Voldemort started to control me by threatening to kill my family." Draco shivered. "I want that bastard dead, Harry!"

"Happy to oblige, but I don't think Voldemort was lying to you about love. He genuinely doesn't understand it," said Harry. "He's the most loveless person on the planet. Nobody loves him and he loves nobody."

"Then I almost feel sorry for him ... almost," said Draco. "I wouldn't want to live without you. If only I'd known about Hermione's magic word, when I was still at Hogwarts. I would have approached you and used it!"

"Then Voldemort would have seen it in your head and killed you," Harry reminded him. He thought about the memory he'd just seen. "So how did you know I was a virgin?"

"I didn't. It was my wildest fantasy," said Draco happily. "When it comes to you, real life is better than fantasy." He smirked and there was a spark of mischief in his eyes. "Apart from your cauliflower knees, of course!"

Harry nibbled on his ear in retaliation and Draco laughed. But then he sobered up quickly.

"You forgive me, Harry? Truly?"

Harry smiled and nodded.

Tears rose in Draco's eyes. "You have the most loving, forgiving heart I've ever seen, Harry. I love you so much!"

Harry thought of the Vow and couldn't help but wince, as his heart ached. "You don't love me, it's the Vow."

Draco's eyes blazed. "You frustrating, stupid, noble Gryffindor! If I didn't think you'd hate it and fight back, I'd tie you to the bed and make passionate love to you right now, just to prove how much I really love you."

"Ooh, yes please!" exclaimed Harry.

The Slytherin hadn't expected that. His jaw dropped and worked silently. "But you said you'd fight back all the time and never give in, if I tied you up-"

"That's if you tried it when you were my enemy. But now I love you, Draco. I trust you."

Draco stared at him, almost overcome. "Merlin, I'm so lucky..."

Harry grinned. "Seeing you pleasure me tied-down like that was the hottest thing I've ever seen!" He lay back on the bed and spread his arms and legs, as though tied to non-existent bedposts. "You wouldn't DARE try it for real, Malfoy," he sneered theatrically, and winked.

Draco was too stunned by his own good fortune to reply right away, but he rallied admirably. "Oh, wouldn't I, Potter? Just you wait, I'll Charm some leather straps and..." He raised his wand, and froze. In a voice of dismayed horror, he said: "Harry, this bed doesn't have any bedposts!"

Harry raised his head and peered at the bed. He realised it was little more than a mattress on a shelf. "What we really need," he said conversationally. "Is a four-poster..."

"There MUST to be a spell to Transfigure a normal bed into a four-poster," said Draco, in a voice of desperation.

"I don't know it."

"Neither do I. I've slept in four-posters all my life, so I've never needed to learn."

"They have four-poster beds at Hogwarts," suggested Harry, lowering his head.

"I can just see Eileen Prince's face if we went back there. 'Uh, sorry Harry here threatened your husband. Could you please let us in again? We want to have a tied-up shag on a four-poster bed in one of the dorms.'"

Laughing as well and looking shamefaced, Harry said, "Maybe the Hufflepuff dorm? I haven't seen that yet."

"Not Hufflepuff! Just going into their dorm will bring my intelligence down."

"Just as long as YOU go down on me-" Harry was silenced by Draco play punching his chest. He wrestled back. "We could always go to the Leaky Cauldron. They've got four-poster beds."

"The landlord, Tom, might get suspicious if we hire a room for two hours," said Draco. "How'd you like to see that in the Daily Prophet? 'Shagging Chosen One Hires Room...'" Harry thought he must have looked shocked, because Draco grinned. "No, you were doing quite well just pretending to be tied up, Harry." His tone changed to a theatrical gloat as he pushed Harry's arms and legs back into the mock tied-up position. "Now I've finally got you tied up, Harry Potter. I can do whatever I like to you."

"Oh no! A Slytherin's going to shag me!" The creature in Harry's chest was growling happily.

"That's right, Potter, and you're going to enjoy every minute. I'm going to make you beg for my touch and ... why are you sitting up?"

"I'm taking my glasses off so I look like your fantasy."

"Sexy! But lie down, Potter. You're very active for a tied-up person. Now I'm going to kiss you from head to toe, even though you're squinting a bit and ... why are you sitting up again?"

"I can't see you. I want to see you. I'm putting my glasses back on."

"Lie DOWN, Potter! You're the most domineering, tied-up, submissive person I've ever heard of! Wait ... you're getting up AGAIN?"

"I've still got my clothes on! I'm supposed to be naked!"

"All right! I'll help you take your clothes off. THEN you're at my mercy, Potter!"

"Ooh, Malfoy! You're so masterful" said Harry, and laughed.

oOoOoOo

Afterwards, they lay exhausted in each other's arms. Their clothes were dangling from the bedside tables, and even the mantelpiece, where they'd thrown them in their efforts to get naked as quickly as possible.

"You're hugging me very hard for a tied-up person, Potter," teased Draco, still playing the game, but sounding very sleepy and relaxed now.

"I can't resist you. That was the best shag of my entire life. I love you so much," Harry answered, gently kissing Draco's neck.

"I love you too, Harry," Draco sighed, and Harry remembered the Vow and tensed.

Feeling Harry's reaction, Draco lifted his head and looked him in the eye. "I'll make a deal with you, Harry," he said. "If we ever find proof - absolute proof - that I truly love you, that's the day you're BOTTOMING!"

Harry laughed sadly. "You'll never find absolute proof. My bottom is safe," he said. Then he let out an embarrassing squeak. His boyfriend had just pinched his bottom hard.

"I want to stay here all day, Harry," Draco sighed, snuggling closer.

"Me too."

"But we can't. Hermione's right. We have to find out as much information as possible about Snape, before we see him tonight. I want to go to your house, and speak to your Aunt Petunia. She might know something about Snape that we don't."

"She should be home," said Harry. "My cousin, Dudley, has boxing practice on Saturday mornings, but it's afternoon now." He sighed angrily. "I hate my Muggle family. I thought I'd left them for the last time."

"Sorry, Harry but we have to see them," said Draco, in a business-like tone. He paused, and when he spoke again, his voice was nervous. "Harry, I'm scared about tonight. Even if Snape turns out to be on our side, you attacked his step-father, Filch. He's not going to forgive that easily."

"I know," replied Harry. He thought about his reaction to Filch and shuddered. "I seem to have ... a bit of an anger problem ... where Snape and his family is concerned."

Draco snorted. "That's putting it mildly, Harry."

"I've got the same frothing, over the top hatred of Snape, that the Ministry has of Death Eaters," admitted Harry slowly. He remembered what the Ministry had done to Draco in the short time he'd been in their clutches, and his resolve hardened. No, he'd never let himself sink to such depths! He had to stay calm and courteous around his enemies. If only he had the self-control of his lost mentor - though even Dumbledore had lost his temper at Snape at least once. "Will you help me ... stay calm ... around Snape tonight?" Harry asked.

"Use Occlumency," suggested Draco. "We should ALL use it. Let's even use it when we're talking to the Dursleys. It'll be good practice, and Ron needs all the practice he can get, before he sees Snape."

Harry nodded. "Speaking of reading minds, didn't you say you'd seen some of Snape's memories?"

"A couple, but nothing very important," said Draco, with a slight yawn. "Just stuff about his old girlfriend, when he was in Hogwarts."

"Snape had a girlfriend?" said Harry, amazed. He'd always thought of Snape being single all his life. "I bet she was hideously ugly, just like he is!"

"No, she was pretty," said Draco. "I saw her in the memory. She loved him too."

"Incredible!" Harry laughed. "Her name wasn't Petunia, was it?" he joked. "Maybe that's how Snape knew my aunt! She looks like a horse now, but maybe she was prettier when she was younger?"

"I don't know Snape's girlfriend's first name. In the memory, Snape just called her Evans."

Suddenly the joke didn't seem as funny. "Evans was my aunt's maiden name." Harry clapped a hand to his mouth, feeling slightly ill. "Draco! Maybe they really did date!"

"Want to see the memory?" Draco offered.

"Yes, please!" Harry reached for his wand and thought, Legilimens.

It was one of Slughorn's Slug Club parties, from a time when Slughorn still had some of his straw-coloured hair. The Potions teacher smiled amiably, at the skinny, greasy-haired teenage boy who was standing with a beautiful, auburn-haired teenage girl with almond-shaped green eyes, then moved on to the next group, because the girl had just said something very private.

"I said, I love you, Snape," said the girl.

Snape's black eyes were warm, and full of sharp intelligence and humour. They were also almost popping out of his head with amazement. His sallow cheeks flushed. "You love me?" he echoed.

The girl nodded, smiling.

"Will you go out with me, Evans?" asked Snape shyly, his face almost handsome with joy.

"Yes!" Evans leaned forwards and kissed him.

"No!" yelled Harry, and the attic bedroom reappeared. "That was my mother, Draco! Severus Snape was dating my mother!"

oOoOoOo

_**Author's Notes:** When I first heard the 'Snape loved Lily' theory, way back after Book 3, I thought, No way! As you can tell, the books since then have changed my mind. ;-)_

_ It's review begging time again. You've got the whole chapter now! Please, please review!_

_ **Replies to reviews:**_

_ Thank you to the following people for reviewing: OriginalSin1132, NinjaoftheDarkness, HecateDeMort, Emu Alive and Kicking, Emma Icewind, rekahneko, Crowley Black, bellajen94, Bad fairy, Yellowwolf, Fred kissed George, GreenEyedCatDragon, Potter's Wifey, black dilemma, 6tigercubs, death by storm, CatWriter, thrnbrooke, ProperT, jinxgirl71, LunaSky, Riku-Rocks, and Moyima. _

_ lonley.hopelessly-romantic: Harry's a natural dominant, but he's willing to play submissive for Draco, though he's not very good at it. (Draco says: Why are you bossing me around, submissive, tied-up person? ;-)_

_ Fmh: This chapter was a bit more disturbing, I hope it didn't put you off, but I had to show how horrible Voldemort was. I swear I'm going to kill them off in the end: Voldemort, Barnes and Umbridge! ;-)_

_ Chrystalline Tears: Thank you for all those reviews. I hope you managed to finish. The Bodyguard is looong. Yes, I made the Aurors look like Death Eaters (good on you for noticing!) because I wanted to show that the Ministry, in fighting the Death Eaters, is growing horribly like them._

_ Anon: Thanks for your review. I agree with most of your critique. I wasn't sure about Snape's postscripts (or the constant interjections during his letter in Chapter 19). Voldemort, however, had no option but to fight hand to hand in Chapter 21. His wand is useless in a fight against Harry, due to Priori Incantatem. (I suspect that's why Ollivander's disappeared in Book 6. He ran off before he could be forced to built Voldemort a new wand, one that wouldn't cause Priori Incantatem.) I don't think Dumbledore wasn't out of character, because I lifted his rage straight from Goblet of Fire, when he was attacking Crouch Junior and his face was 'terrible.' As Hagrid was amazed at how angry Dumbledore had been with Snape in the forest, I made the Headmaster have another of his 'terrible' moments. You're completely right about Draco drawling all the time, and I've kept it to a minium in the latest chapter. What I really need is a steady beta, to pick those sorts of things up, but I've managed to 'kill' six betas so far... ;-) _


	31. Muggle Baiting

_**Author's Note: **I hate the Dursleys. Sic 'em, Draco!_

oOoOoOo

**The Bodyguard**

** Chapter 31: Muggle-baiting**

"My mother was in love with Severus Snape!" Harry said, sitting bolt upright in bed.

"Could Snape be your real father?" asked Draco, sitting up next to him.

Harry choked. "No! How can you say that? James Potter is my real dad. At least, I thought he was ... no, he MUST be! Everybody keeps telling me how I'm the spitting image of him." Harry took a deep breath. "My father and Snape HATED each other. They were in the same year together at Hogwarts, and they were school rivals, just like you and me."

He felt Draco's eyes trail up and down his naked body, reminding him of what they'd just been doing. "Exactly like you and me?" teased Draco, his eyes bright.

Harry spluttered. "No, nothing like us, come to think of it. My father and Snape were definitely not shagging!" It took him a moment to regain his composure. "And Lily Evans must be my real mother because I've got her eyes."

"Mmm, beautiful eyes," said Draco dreamily. He added, in a more normal voice, "This explains why Snape hated you on sight, Harry. I saw the way he looked at you, in that first Potions lesson. You're the spitting image of his school enemy and his ex-girlfriend." He stared and a line appeared between his eyebrows. "I wonder why Snape and Evans broke up?"

"Probably because he called her a Mudblood," said Harry angrily. But vague memories of a ghostly Bertha Jorkins rising out of a Pensieve surfaced in his mind. "I know Snape was seen kissing a girl called Florence, by another girl called Bertha Jorkins, who was a terrible gossip," he said. "Snape hexed Bertha, so she must have told everyone. Dumbledore showed me all that in his Pensieve."

"When did Snape called your mother a Mudblood?" asked Draco.

"At Hogwarts, some time," said Harry. He didn't want to go into detail about Snape's worst memory.

"A strange thing to call your girlfriend," said Draco. "They must have broken up by then."

"Must have," said Harry distractedly, because he was thinking hard about his mother. He knew almost nothing about her. What had she been like, if she'd been able to love Severus Snape?

oOoOoOo

He was still thinking about her, when the quartet Apparated, under Harry's invisibility cloak, outside the Dursleys.

"You have far too many friends, Harry," muttered Draco. The four of them made their way towards the front door, but they were forced to crouch and crawl, in order to fit under the cloak. With a wicked grin, Draco pretended to push Ron outside the cloak. Ron grinned and pretended to push back. Hermione gave an irritated sniff.

"Settle down," whispered Harry. He looked around for Muggle observers. The deserted, suburban Muggle street was lined with dull and regimented houses, and Harry's old home was the most average-looking house of the lot. He could only guess how much of an effort his aunt and uncle had put into making their house look as normal as possible.

Uncle Vernon's new company car, a showy, convertible red sports car, that broadcast that its owner had a very small penis, was parked in the driveway. They crawled past it. Uncle Vernon must be having his midlife crisis, thought Harry bitterly. Or he's got more money, now that he no longer has to pay for cold, tinned soup for me.

"So this is where your Muggle relatives live?" asked Draco, glancing at the house and car with a faint sneer. "I'd love to get revenge, for what they did to you."

"So would I," said Ron.

"I would too, but Muggle-baiting is a crime," warned Hermione.

"Only if you get caught," smirked Draco. "I won't tell if you don't."

Hermione looked annoyed.

"Besides, what they did to Harry is a far worse crime," said Ron. His shoe slipped out from under the cloak as he spoke.

A small, fluffy white dog, which had been sniffing along the fence, caught sight of the disembodied shoe, and ran off yelping.

"We've got to get inside," said Hermione, staring distractedly after the dog. "If we're seen by Muggles, the Ministry will be furious."

"Let's get this over quickly, then," said Ron and started to straighten up, but Harry stopped him.

"Wait! Put your Occlumency on first. We need to practice before we see Snape. And Draco, take your cloak off. Your clothes will pass as a Muggle business suit without it."

Draco struggled out of his cloak, and rolled it up. Glancing around, to make sure no one was looking, he thrust it under the pruned privet hedge.

"Now," said Harry.

The four of them straightened and marched towards the Dursleys' front door. Harry knocked, and put his invisibility cloak into his pocket. He could hear heavy footsteps approaching the door on the inside and further off, in the kitchen, the unpleasantly familiar sound of his aunt and uncle chatting.

The door opened, and a massive, thick-necked, blond teenage boy filled the doorway. He looked every inch a bully. But despite his intimidating bulk, he cringed, when he saw who his visitors were.

"Hullo, Dudley," said Harry.

Dudley's stupid, blue eyes focused on Harry, Hermione and Ron, and he took a step backwards as though he were about to slam the door in their faces.

But Draco quickly wedged his foot in the door. "Good afternoon," said he coldly. "You're Dudley Dursley, I presume? I'd like to ask your mother a few questions." He was the only one of the group apparently wearing Muggle clothes, and he exuded an air of icy authority.

Dudley blinked at the Slytherin, and looked nervous. "Hullo," he said thickly. "You look like a cop! Are you going to show me your badge, like those cops on American TV shows?"

Harry didn't need Legilimency to know Dudley was thinking about the kids he'd beaten up lately and wondering if he were going to be arrested. It amused no end Harry greatly to see his big, brutish cousin squirm, and the thought of making his life more uncomfortable was too tempting for words. Diving in, before Draco could give the game away, Harry sneered, "Of course he can't show you his badge! How stupid are you, Dudley? British policemen don't have badges. Do they Detective Longbottom?" he asked, staring hard at Draco, then Ron and Hermione, and telling them, through his eyes, to play along.

In return, Harry sensed a powerful sense of disapproval from Hermione, and mental cheers from both Draco and Ron.

"I knew that! Just testing," said Dudley sulkily.

"Please excuse my prisoner, Mr Dursley. He won't speak out of turn again, if he knows what's good for him," said Draco, narrowing his eyes at Harry.

"Prisoner?" Dudley was suddenly jubilant. "You've arrested these three?"

Prisoner? Harry asked Draco silently. He received a mental smirk in reply.

"Yes, prisoner," said Draco impatiently. "Now, are you going to let me in, so I can speak to your mother? I don't have all day."

"Okay, Mum and Dad are in the kitchen." Eagerly, Dudley ushered them inside. He lumbered ahead of them as they walked down the corridor, and he didn't see Harry indicate the Cupboard Below The Stairs with his eyes, to his friends, nor did he see Ron's face twitch, momentarily, into an expression of rage.

Dudley burst into the kitchen, with the quartet close behind. "Mum!" he bellowed. "Detective Longbottom is here to speak to you. He's arrested Potter and his friends!"

The kitchen was as spotless as ever; Harry wondered if the Dursleys had gotten themselves a new slave, since he had left.

Aunt Petunia looked up with a horse-faced expression of curiosity, at her son's news.

Uncle Vernon put down his cup of tea, and his thick moustache dripped on his shirt. "So the police are rounding up the magical freaks? At long last, all those taxes I pay are being put to good use," he said, taking in the sight of the apparently business-suited Draco, standing tall, with Harry and Ron apparently cringing behind. Hermione had her arms folded, but the disapproval on her face might have been shame. Uncle Vernon's moustache bristled and he thrust out a meaty hand in Draco's direction. "I'm Vernon Dursley," he said. "And this is my wife, Petunia. You've met my son Dudley."

Draco shook his hand, with an unreadable expression. "Charmed..."

The Slytherin's upper class accent had an electrifying effect on Harry's relatives. Uncle Vernon's eyes widened as he shook Draco's hand, and an ugly, ingratiating grin spread over his face. Aunt Petunia stood up straight, making herself look bonier than ever.

It was then that Harry remembered that the Dursleys were permanently upwardly mobile. They had money now, thanks to the success of his uncle's drill company, but they longed to enter the upper echelons of society and were forever looking for the person who would be so kind as to introduce them. The light in their piggy eyes, as they took in Draco's chiselled features, commanding air and expensively cut clothes, made it clear they thought he could be that person.

"Would you like a cup of tea, Detective Longbottom?" asked Uncle Vernon, suddenly hearty. "Or perhaps some brandy? Of course, I won't tell your superiors you're drinking on duty." He gave Draco an obnoxious, obsequious wink.

"I wouldn't mind some brandy," said Ron. He was examining at the refrigerator, and didn't see the look of intense dislike the Dursleys threw at him. They clearly remembered the time the Weasleys had visited, and Dudley's tongue had ended up four foot long. "This is a re-fridge-er-ray-tor, isn't it?" asked Ron, glancing at the Dursleys. He tugged at the refrigerator door, and made its restaurant menus, stuck on with flower-shaped magnets, flap. "Wizards don't use re-fridge-er-ray-tors. They just stop time around food so it stays fresh." Ron turned around, and started reading the menus with interest.

Uncle Vernon looked at Draco, nodded at Ron's back and made gestures indicating insanity. They're all mad, he mouthed silently.

"I'm not thirsty, thank you," said Draco coldly, as if Ron and Uncle Vernon hadn't spoken.

"I must say, you sound very well bred, Detective Longbottom," simpered Aunt Petunia. "Know a few lords do you?"

"I used to serve a Lord," said Draco, and Harry wondered why his relatives didn't immediately freeze solid at the coldness in the Slytherin's voice.

But Uncle Vernon wasn't the most empathetic or observant man. "Wonderful, do you think you could introduce us?" he asked eagerly.

"I could, but I doubt you'd find the experience particularly enjoyable, or even of long duration," said Draco. His voice, if anything, was colder, but Uncle Vernon rubbed his hands together with anticipation.

"Thank you very much! I'm looking forward to it!"

"So am I," Harry piped up, imagining the looks on the Dursleys' faces if they met Lord Voldemort.

Draco gave Harry a quelling look and turned back to the Dursleys. "Pardon me if I don't introduce you to my ex-employer right away, but I need to know anything you can tell me about Severus Snape."

"That horrible boy?" asked Aunt Petunia.

Everyone looked at her.

Horrible boy? Harry wondered. He'd heard his aunt talking about overhearing her sister speaking with a horrible boy, but he'd always assume that boy was his father.

"He wouldn't be a horrible boy now. Horrible man, more likely," Aunt Petunia continued. "Oh, he was ghastly! Weird, soft voice, and a horrible, greasy mullet haircut! Lily, my sister, HIS mother," she gestured in Harry's direction. "She told me Snape washed his hair all the time and it only looked greasy because of magic. Then, if you please, Lily went and married a man whose hair stuck up all the time because of magic, and her son has exactly the same deformity." She glared at Harry.

"Magic people are thoroughly revolting! It's a good thing they're finally getting rounded up," said Uncle Vernon. He was picking his nose.

"I must say, your hair looks lovely slicked back like that, Detective Longbottom. What styling products are you using? I'll buy some for my Dudley," simpered Aunt Petunia.

Behind his Occlumency mask, Harry stifled a grin. The styling product Draco was using was a Grooming Charm.

"Can I please steer the conversation away from my hair and back to Severus Snape?" asked Draco, with an irritated sneer.

"Oh yes," said Aunt Petunia guiltily. "Lily was in Snape's year at Hogwarts." Contempt filled her voice. "That awful wizarding school, you know. I hope you'll be shutting it down. Snape and Lily were best friends in First and Second Year. He used to come over and visit Lily during the holidays. It was awful how they showed off to my parents. Turning teacups into rats!" Harry could hear the jealousy in his Aunt Petunia's voice. "Then they started dating in Third Year, and they'd been dating two years, when Lily found out Snape was cheating on her."

"It's shameful how that lot carry on," said Uncle Vernon and his wife nodded smugly.

"Cheating?" asked Draco.

"Yes. Some stupid, gossipy Hufflepuff, called Bertha Jorkins, saw Snape and Florence Avery kissing behind the greenhouses," said Aunt Petunia dramatically. "You'd think an ugly boy like Snape would have stayed faithful, but no!"

"Avery..." Draco said the name, as if something made sense. "So Lily broke up with Snape?"

"She dropped him like a hot potato! That Potter boy kept pestering her to go out with him, but she was heartbroken and she turned him down. Then, I heard she gave up on Snape completely. She found the Potter boy torturing him, probably jealous that Lily would date Snape but not him! Lily tried to stop it, but instead of thanking her, Snape called her a name! He was getting very deeply into the Dark Arts at that time. Hard to believe, isn't it, that some kinds of magic can be worse than others? All forms of magic are bad enough!" said Aunt Petunia, with a delicious shiver.

Draco managed a credible expression of surprise.

"My sister never had anything to do with Snape again. She started dating Potter a year or so later. Then she married him and had that boy." Aunt Petunia gestured again at Harry.

"I see," said Draco. "Have you seen Severus Snape since Lily and he broke up?"

"I have!" said Aunt Petunia. "The cheek of the man! He actually came to my house, asking for Lily, a few years after they'd finished school. Lily was out on a date with James Potter. I tried to send Snape on his way, but he pushed his way in. He was babbling that he'd been fooled into cheating on Lily and tricked into joining the Death Eaters. That's the organization that killed the Potters, you know. Very low class! All the members have a tattoo of a snake going through a skull's mouth on their left arm. Snape showed me his and it was hideous! The sort of tattoo a truck driver would have." She simpered at Draco again. "The sort of thing a fine and upstanding young man like yourself would never have!"

Draco stared at her.

"I told Snape I'd tell Lily he visited. But I didn't quite get around to it," said Aunt Petunia primly. "I didn't want to encourage him."

"Quite right," said Uncle Vernon. "We wouldn't want someone with tattoos in the family."

Harry got a weird feeling in his stomach, as he wondered what would have happened if Aunt Petunia had told his mother that Snape wanted to get back with her. Would he be standing here now, with a permanent, greasy mullet, instead of sticking up short hair?

"So what are you going to do with the magic people you've caught, Detective Longbottom?" asked Dudley, sneering at Harry, Ron and Hermione.

"They'll have to hang them," said Uncle Vernon brutally. "Goodness knows locking them up and punishing them doesn't work. We tried it with that one," he indicated Harry. "Locked him in the Cupboard Under The Stairs, but it didn't stop his abnormality." He snorted and shrugged.

"Show me this cupboard," said Draco smoothly.

"Of course," said Aunt Petunia. She stepped out into the corridor and opened the cupboard door. "We keep it exactly the same, in case Potter is forced to move in with us again."

Everyone stepped forward and craned their necks to look. The pathetic, tiny, dusty bed Harry had slept on, was still in the cupboard. Harry had spent most of his childhood in there - a little boy with big, green eyes, unloved and uncherished, parents dead, hungry, crying and alone, with a great cut across his forehead...

Draco's Occlumency-induced expression was bland, but he was playing strangely with his left sleeve, as they all walked back into the kitchen.

Ron's Occlumency wasn't sufficient to conceal his current state of emotion.

"What's wrong with you?" Uncle Vernon asked Ron suspiciously.

Making an effort with his Occlumency, Ron managed to look merely sulky, instead of ready to throttle the Dursleys with his bare hands. "Nothing. But I could really fancy a pissa," he announced.

The word seemed to drop through the Dursleys' composure, like a brick through a glass coffee table.

Uncle Vernon licked his lips, as if they'd gone dry. "Upstairs, first door to the left," he said.

"No! He shouldn't leave Detective Longbottom's sight," said Aunt Petunia. "It might be a cunning escape plan! He might shimmy down the drain pipe!"

"We don't have a drain pipe, there, Petunia, dear."

"He might fly away! He's a freak, I tell you."

"What is upstairs, first door to the left?" asked Hermione.

"The toilet, of course!"

"But I don't want a pissa in the toilet. I want to have one right here!" cried Ron.

The entire Dursley family was mortified.

"Don't you dare! This is my kitchen! I've just cleaned it!" exclaimed Aunt Petunia.

Ron looked both alarmed and puzzled at their reactions. "I could always have a pissa in your lounge room, if that's okay," he suggested meekly.

"Not in my lounge room, either!" wailed Aunt Petunia despairingly.

"I don't understand," said Ron. "I thought Muggles had pissas everywhere!"

"We do NOT pissa everywhere!" bellowed Dudley.

This is a real test of my Occlumency, thought Harry. I should be rolling on the ground laughing, but I'm not.

"Aren't wizards disgusting?" said Aunt Petunia to Draco.

But Draco had had enough of the pretence. "What's wrong with Ron having a pissa in the kitchen?" he snapped. "Muggles do it all the time! I read about it in a Muggle newspaper!"

Harry's aunt and uncle went pale.

"You don't sound like a detective!" growled Uncle Vernon. "You said Muggle!"

"You're one of THEM," said Dudley.

"Oh no," said Draco lazily. "I'm far worse." He yanked out his wand and pulled his sleeve down, revealing the burning red skull and snake on his left forearm.

The Dursleys gasped, and took a step backward. Aunt Petunia squeaked in terror, pushed her big son behind her and grabbed the arm of her husband. "That's a Dark Mark! Longbottom is a Death Eater," she cried. "They've come for us, Vernon!"

"Now I'm going to have a pissa in the kitchen with Ron, and a big bunch of Muggles like you aren't going to stop me," said Draco, in a low, threatening voice.

Uncle Vernon looked at the knife rack, but he saw Draco's wand twitch, and he froze, with what he apparently hoped was an ingratiating smile. "No need to be hasty!" Uncle Vernon said, his voice high-pitched with fright.

Dudley looked desperately in Harry's direction, as if asking to be rescued. "Don't look at Harry to save you. He's under my control!" shouted Draco. "I've magically enslaved all of them!"

Ron's face twitched under his Occlumency mask.

"Yes, Master Longbottom," said Harry. He was enjoying himself immensely.

The Dursleys were shaking in their shoes.

Draco eyed them coldly. "There's plenty I could do to you, but you're not worth it," he said. He flicked his wand at the door. "Get out! I want all three of you out of my sight, while Ron and I have pissas! All over your house!" He laughed maliciously.

"Not in my room-!" began Dudley, but his mother elbowed him where his ribs would have been visible, if they weren't buried in muscle and fat.

"Of course! Thank you! We're just leaving. Vernon, the car keys," said Aunt Petunia.

In a tight group, the Dursleys walked very slowly and carefully towards the front door, facing backwards so they could keep their eyes on Draco's raised wand. They slipped out the door, and the moment it shut, they could be heard sprinting to their car.

The quartet raced to the window. The red sports car was reversing, with screaming tyres, down the driveway. Dudley had been too slow getting in, and was half hanging over the side, kicking his thick legs in the air. With all of the Dursleys shouting and screaming, Uncle Vernon driving like a maniac, and Aunt Petunia trying to drag her son inside, the car tore off down the road and out of sight.

Door opened all down the street, and curious faces poked out. The Dursleys' reputation, as the most normal family on the street, had just been blown to smithereens.

"Technically, Draco, that was Muggle-baiting," said Hermione severely, turning away from the window. She glanced at the Cupboard Under The Stairs. "But I won't tell if you don't," she added, with a wink.

Ron stared at her. "Who are you and what have you done with Hermione?" he asked, deadpan.

"We should leave," said Hermione, ignoring Ron. "The Dursleys will call the Muggle police any second."

"No, they won't," said Harry scathingly. "They wouldn't want to risk anyone finding out about me. What they'll do is go to a hotel, and come back in the morning, hoping we'll be gone."

"Good," said Draco, with satisfaction. "We've gotten rid of them. Now let's all have a pissa."

Harry burst out laughing. "It was a great joke, but you and Ron can stop now. The Dursleys have gone."

"Don't you start, Harry. I'm deadly serious," said Draco. "I want a pissa."

"The toilet's just upstairs," said Harry, with a grin.

Draco and Ron looked at each other, frustration written all over their faces, and then they looked at Hermione, who shrugged, clearly mystified.

"I'll SHOW you," said Ron impatiently. He pulled a leaflet off the refrigerator, sending a happy daisy magnet flying, and waved the flimsy bit of paper in front of Harry's nose.

"Oh," said Harry, suddenly understanding. "Pizza!"

oOoOoOo

_**Author's Notes:** Is Snape Harry's father? Snapey's turning up in the next chapter, so maybe Harry will find out soon._

_ **Replies to reviews:**_

_ Thank you to the following people for reviewing: keske, Fmh, Potter's Wifey, roxietheroxie, Riku-Rocks, InTheTelling, rekahneko, Yellowwolf, 6tigercubs, ThePotionsMiss, dracoizumi, GreenEyedCatDragon, draconian snowangel216, Car, HecateDeMort, Crowley Black, creativekhaos, NinjaoftheDarkness, thrnbrooke, Iset, Anissina June, Your Mom Is My Heart., ProperT, LunaSky, and Fred kissed George._

_ Norwegian MoonShadow: Thanks for voting for The Bodyguard at quilltoparchment dot com. I haven't won a fanfic writing award before and it would be incredibly cool if I did._

_ ThePotionsMiss: Thanks! Yes, 30 chapters already! After this current chapter, only six chapters and an epilogue to go! Twenty-three days until Deathly Hallows, and I want to finish before that comes out. One chapter every 3.2 days..._

_ bellajen94: Thanks for your review! 3. Your wish is my command! 4. Sorry, the weekend got in the way. Only about 3 days between updates this time. 5. Hmm, perhaps you already have solid proof, one way or the other? ;-) 6. I'd like to work Pansy and the twins shagging into the plot. 7. Jumping down Snape's throat is never a very good idea at the best of times (as Rowling says, he's not a nice guy) and it's even less advisable now. The quartet aren't school kids any more, and Snape isn't their teacher and responsible for their welfare. Let's just say the greasy git doesn't have to stick to expelling them or deducting house points. Bwahahahah! ;-) 8. Can't say yet! 9. Really can't say yet! Bwahahahaha! ;-) 10. Thanks again. _


	32. The Dementor Master

**The Bodyguard**

** Chapter 32: The Dementor Master**

Harry laughed until his knees went weak and he tumbled to his Aunt Petunia's spotless kitchen floor. He rolled there, crying with mirth. "Pissa!" he howled. "Pizza!" He was vaguely aware of Hermione doing the same thing.

"How were we supposed to know it was pronounced 'peat-za'?" muttered Ron.

"We haven't eaten Muggle food before. We're pure-bloods," Draco pointed out, folding his arms and looking irritated.

"I could order a home delivery, if you like, Draco," Harry said, between gusts of laughter. He started to get up. He could see Hermione chuckling and struggling to her feet as well.

"Home delivery?" The Slytherin was puzzled.

"Won't that be very expensive?" asked Ron.

"Expensive?"

"To deliver a home."

Harry and Hermione looked at each other and, with renewed screams of laughter, sank back to the floor.

It took a few minutes, before Harry and Hermione regained enough composure to explain what home delivery meant. Then Harry thrust the menu at Ron and Draco. "Choose which pizzas you want, as many as you want, and I'll order them over the phone."

"So they'll actually cook and bring us the food we ask for?" asked Draco. "This is like having a house elf!"

"Except the cook and delivery driver are paid," said Hermione. Draco avoided her glare.

"How much is this going to cost?" asked Ron uncomfortably.

"Not too much," said Harry, slipping his hand into his pocket. The he realised, he didn't have any Muggle money, only galleons. He was about to ask Hermione if she'd brought any pounds, when Draco spoke.

"The Dursleys can pay," he said, holding up Dudley's wallet, which had been lying on the kitchen table. "Not that I usually approve of stealing," he added, in the face of Hermione's obvious disapproval. "But the Dursleys locked Harry in a cupboard for eleven years. A few pissas ... pizzas ... is the least they owe."

"The very least," said Ron.

"Draco," said Harry. "Did I ever tell you I love you?"

oOoOoOo

While they waited for their pizzas to arrive, Harry led them on a tour of the house. It was the first time Draco and Ron had really explored a Muggle home, and they found it fascinating.

"What my Dad wouldn't give to be here," said Ron, flicking a light switch on and off, until the hallway looked like a nightclub.

They prodded at the central heating switches, fiddled with Dudley's computer games, and flicked through his unopened Muggle books.

But the tour came to a sudden halt, when Harry and Hermione, who had been standing in the bathroom explaining to Ron what rubber ducks were for (they weren't quite sure themselves) heard Draco, in Dudley's room, shouting in a rage.

"Think my name's funny, do you? Take that back, or else! All right, I warned you!"

Then came an explosion...

All three raced into Dudley's bedroom, and found Draco standing, holding his wand, with one hand clamped over his mouth in horror. He was staring at the smoking ruin of what had once been Dudley's computer screen.

"I killed the paperclip!" said Draco, his voice muffled by his hand. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to! I only hit it with Jellylegs!"

"What happened?" asked Harry.

"I was pressing buttons on that board thing," said Draco, sounding overwrought. "Then a cheeky paperclip popped up and asked me if I wanted to change 'Draco' into 'drama'! Well, can you imagine? I wasn't going to stand for that! I told it to apologise, but it didn't, Harry! It just blinked and DANCED at me!"

"Sounds irritating," said Harry cheerfully. "That paperclip deserved to die!"

Draco grabbed him. "How can you say that, Harry? I-I killed it!"

Laughing, Harry replied, "Relax! If only those paperclips were that easy to kill! You only blew up the screen. The paperclip is still alive in there." He pointed at a beige box with flashing lights.

"Oh..." Draco lowered his hands, and his shame seemed to dissipate. He tapped the box with one finger. "Can you hear me, paperclip? Are you sorry now you called me drama?"

"Why should it be sorry?" asked Ron. "Anyone who knows you could see that the word fits!"

Harry and Hermione laughed, and Draco looked sulky. He drew himself up, as if about to yell at Ron, but then the doorbell rang.

"Pissa ... I mean pizza's here," said Harry, relieved. He ushered his friends downstairs, before they could start fighting.

oOoOoOo

"I think I ate too much," said Ron, some time later.

"Me too. I feel sick," groaned Draco. He, Harry and Ron were sprawled over the couches in the lounge room. Open, empty pizza boxes lay all around.

"Feeling sick is a well-known side effect from too much pizza," said Harry, who wasn't feeling too well himself.

"Why didn't you warn me?"

"I forgot. The Dursley hardly ever gave me too much to eat." Harry felt Draco snuggling up to him and leaned his head comfortably on his boyfriend's shoulder.

"I hate those Muggles," said the Slytherin. "I want to keep getting back at them, somehow."

Ron burped so loudly the windows rattled.

Hermione was up on a chair, busily tampering with the Dursleys' curtains.

"What are you doing?" asked Harry.

"Giving the Dursleys what they deserve. I could see your cupboard while I was eating, and it put me off my pizza."

"Lucky you. Wish I'd seen the cupboard," muttered Ron. He rubbed his distended stomach.

Hermione ignored him. "I saved up all my anchovies from the pizza, and I'm putting one into each curtain rod. The Dursleys will never find out where the smell is coming from," she said unrepentantly.

"Brilliant, Hermione!" Ron beamed at her.

"And to think you accused ME of Muggle-baiting," said Draco. "Your kind of Muggle-baiting lasts longer! Not that that's a bad thing, of course," he added, when Hermione sniffed. He yawned and stretched. "Harry, I've got one more memory of Snape you should see. It's about Florence Avery."

"The girl who kissed Snape? Why didn't you show me before?"

"She's only called Avery in the memory. I didn't know her first name was Florence, until I heard your Aunt Petunia. Have a look." He gazed into Harry's eyes.

Touching his wand, Harry thought, Legilimens.

Two robed Death Eaters crouched in a brick-walled sewer. Anonymous in their heavy robes and masks, only their voices made them identifiable.

"Was there a Love Potion in that pumpkin juice you gave me?" demanded Snape. He sounded a few years older than he had in the memory with Lily.

The ugly expression on Avery's masked face was invisible, yet clearly audible. "Took you long enough to guess! I'm flattered," she sneered. "I had to make certain you'd kiss me. I'd already lured that stupid Hufflepuff, behind the greenhouses. It was only fair I gave the fool something to talk about." She laughed - a horrible cackle that made her sound insane.

"Avery..." There was so much pent-up anger in Snape's low snarl, that if Harry had been Avery, he would have turned tail and fled for his life.

But the female Death Eater seemed too careless or lacking in empathy to notice. "Loved the hex you put on the Hufflepuff afterwards, Severus. Sealing her mouth shut ... was that another one of your own inventions?"

Snape ignored her question. "Why did you do it?" he asked, and his voice was softer and more dangerous than Harry had ever heard.

"Orders from the Dark Lord," said Avery carelessly. "He'd heard of your talent for Potions, and he'd seen some of your Dark magic inventions. It was Levicorpus that finally won him over. He wanted you in the family. So Evans had to go, you understand? The Dark Lord couldn't have one of his followers dating a Mudblood." Even Avery must have sensed the menace rising off Snape by now, for she added. "It was for your own good, Severus. Where would you be now, if I hadn't interfered? Probably married to the M-"

The memory ended, but before it faded to black, Harry was certain he'd seen Snape reaching for his wand.

The lounge room reappeared.

"I thought Aurors got the entire Avery family," said Draco.

"I think Snape got that one," said Harry, thinking about what he'd just seen. The ex-Defence Against The Dark Arts teacher had been like a black panther, ready to pounce.

Hermione and Ron were staring at him curiously and he told them what he had seen.

"I'm not looking forward to meeting Snape," said Hermione thoughtfully. "The more I know about Snape, the more I realise how much he must HATE you, Harry."

"Why?" asked Ron.

Hermione flushed. "Think about it," she said. "We still don't know what side Snape is on. Harry's living proof of Snape's failed relationship, and Snape has no duty of care to Harry anymore. He's not a professor; he's not being watched over by Professor Dumbledore. We should be very careful tonight."

"I agree," said Draco. "And Harry attacked Argus Filch, who is Snape's step-father. Snape will be wanting revenge."

"We don't have a choice, then. We should attack Snape first, before he attacks us," said Ron boldly.

"Ron, that's a terrible idea," said Draco, shaking his head.

"Why not? It's not like we're going to hurt him. We only want to disarm him, so we can talk to him safely."

"Ron's right," said Hermione. "After all, Harry's the Chosen One. We mustn't risk his life. Severus Snape is one of the most powerful Dark wizards on Earth, and I'd feel a lot more comfortable being in the same room with him, if he wasn't holding his wand."

Harry nodded, despite his strong misgivings. He wondered what would happen if they tried - and failed - to disarm Snape. He could see Draco giving him a worried look, as if weighing up the pros and cons in his mind.

At last, Draco spoke. "All right," he said. "For Harry's sake, I'll do it, as long as we don't hurt Snape once we've caught him." He took a deep breath, and added nervously. "But we have to do this together. Silent Expelliarmus only! And we all have to use Occlumency. Properly this time Ron! Or he'll know what we're planning."

"I WAS using Occlumency properly."

"No, you weren't. I could see your expression changing when you looked at the Dursleys."

"I hated the Dursleys."

"So does Harry, but his face never changed."

"Perfect Harry," muttered Ron.

The Slytherin's expression became dreamy. "You're not kidding."

Ron made a face.

"You're going to say 'too much information', aren't you, Ron."

"Wouldn't dream of it. I'm starting to get used to you two."

Chuckling, Draco snuggled up to Harry again. Harry wrapped his arms around him, feeling sad. Would Draco be talking like that, without the Vow?

oOoOoOo

"Come on, Ron. What's keeping you?" called Hermione.

Harry, Hermione and Draco were waiting in the kitchen, ready to Disapparate to Malfoy Mansion.

Ron came hurrying out of the lounge room, doing up his trousers.

A line appeared between Hermione's eyebrows. "Ron, were you just doing in the lounge room, what I think you were doing?"

Grinning, Ron said, "Draco did promise Harry's relatives we'd have a pissa all over the house. I didn't want to disappoint them."

Harry and Draco burst out laughing.

"Come to think of it, I could do with a pissa myself," said Draco.

"And me," said Harry.

To Hermione's annoyance, they dashed off for a quick, but messy, tour of the house. When they returned to the kitchen, Hermione's expression was thunderous.

"And they say Muggles are dirty. You boys are disgusting," she said, tapping her foot.

Draco just looked at her, out of the corner of his eye, and gave a sharp cough, that sounded like 'anchovy'.

Turning pink, Hermione changed the subject. "If you Apparate inside Malfoy Mansion, Draco, we'll follow you," she said.

"You can't Apparate inside," said Draco. "There're too many wards. The nearest place you can Apparate is twenty kilometres from the house."

"Twenty KILOMETRES!" said Harry.

"Outside the Malfoy estate," said Draco smoothly. "The house is right in the middle and the wards extend all the way across our lands."

"Why didn't you tell us? We're going to be late for Snape if we have to walk twenty kilometres," said Ron.

"We won't have to walk. There will be transportation waiting when we get there."

"What sort of transportation?" asked Hermione.

"Broomsticks?" asked Harry hopefully.

Draco looked particularly pleased with himself. "Not broomsticks. Wait and see."

oOoOoOo

They Apparated on top of a green hill. A high stone wall, made of pale grey blocks, meticulously shaped and stacked together, ran out of sight in both directions. A tall, silver pair of gates, wrought with the name 'Malfoy', towered over them. Spikes lined the top of the gates, but the wall and the gates were not intimidating, but stylish and beautiful.

"Home," Draco said wistfully. "I haven't been back since I fled Hogwarts."

"Won't it be a mess with no one living there?" asked Harry.

"No, the house elves will have looked after it. Stand back." Draco walked up to the gates and touched his wand to the M of Malfoy. He traced the letters, and as he did so, they began to glow with a green light. When he took his wand off the bottom of the Y, the gates opened silently. Draco beckoned them through.

The gates shut with a faint clang behind them. The driveway, lined with pale gravel, crunched beneath their feet.

"Welcome to the Malfoy estates," said Draco.

"Draco, where's your house?" asked Ron. Harry knew he probably didn't mean to sound jealous, but he did. They'd known that Draco's family was rich enough to own a mansion, but they hadn't had any idea they were rich enough to own what looked like half of Britain.

Green woodlands and fields extended to the horizon. So did the driveway. On either side of the gravel, the grass was full of summer wild flowers.

"Malfoy Mansion is a long way off," said Draco. He stuck two fingers into his mouth and whistled piercingly.

There was a distant neigh.

"You've got horses?" asked Ron.

"About two hundred," said Draco. "Granians. My family has bred them for generations."

Hermione's eyes went as round as saucers at the breed name. "Ooh," she said softly.

Draco smirked. "Don't tell me you're one of those girls who love horses, Hermione?"

"Yes! I wanted one so badly when I was ten. But we lived in the middle of London," said Hermione. "I cried for weeks when my parents wouldn't let me keep a horse in our tiny back garden. But those were Muggle horses. Granians are on an entirely different plane."

"Where are they?" asked Ron, looking at the woodland, as if expecting horses to burst out at any minute.

"There, Ron," said Draco, pointing to the sky.

The Gryffindors looked up and gasped.

At least fifty white horses were flying on glistening, feathery wings, through the blue sky towards them.

Draco's memories had not prepared Harry for this. He had never seen anything so beautiful, and judging from Ron and Hermione's indrawn breaths, neither had they.

"Granians are greys, and particularly fast," said Draco proudly. "Ours are the fastest of their breed."

The flying horses were circling down. The afternoon sun, shining on their feathers, was dazzling.

"Draco, they're white, not grey," pointed out Ron. His voice was a whisper, as if he could barely believe what he was seeing.

"White horses are usually called greys," said Hermione, sounding, as usual, as if she'd read up on it. "It's to do with the colour of their skin. Look at their dark noses and hooves. Their coats may be white, but underneath, their skin is black. They're born dark and they lighten as they get older."

"That's true," said Draco. "The foals are chestnut or black. They can't fly, so we keep them near the mansion."

The Granians landed, their hooves thumping on the grass. They trotted towards the quartet, tossing their heads and whinnying. Hermione reached out, and when she found they were tame, started going from horse to horse, patting noses and exclaiming with delight.

"Choose one each and get up," said Draco. "You must get up on their left side or they'll get confused. There's a fence over there, if you can't get up from the ground." He gave Ron, who was still pale and stunned, a boost onto his horse. Hermione managed to get up by herself. She was beaming from ear to ear and suddenly seemed lot more friendly towards Draco.

Harry also managed to get up by himself, and slid on, in front of the wings. His Granian seemed beautifully trained, and stayed very still while he mounted. He pushed himself back and hung on with his legs. It was much more comfortable than sitting on a hippogriff. He didn't have the urge to lean forward and hug his Granian's neck, to stop himself falling.

Draco climbed onto his mount, with the skill of a born horseman. "Follow me!" he called, and whistled again.

The entire herd wheeled around, and galloped back the way they had come. They opened their wings. Harry leaned forward, remembering how the wings of Buckbeak had kept threatening to throw him off, but his Granian's wings were set further back, and after a moment of acceleration, when they left the ground, the ride was very smooth. His mount's skin was soft and pliable, and made a comfortable seat, without the need for a saddle. The wind blew at his hair and the white mane in front of him. Harry started to enjoy himself immensely.

The ground dropped away and he could see for kilometres. Lakes, rivers, forests and fields were all spread out below him, shining in the evening sun. He looked at his friends, amid the flock of flying horses. Hermione was ecstatic, her bushy hair blowing around her. Even Ron had gotten over his shock, and was grinning.

"I want a Granian, Draco!" Hermione whooped.

"Everyone says that!" Draco replied. He was the only one who, judging from his expression, was taking the ride for granted, and hadn't forgotten what lay ahead.

"I had no idea you lived like this, Draco," said Harry.

His boyfriend smiled, and guided his mount closer, so they could talk, though they had to speak loudly above the rushing air and flapping wings. "Do you know you were the first person who ever turned down my friendship?" Draco asked. "I was used to saying my name was Malfoy, and having everybody instantly pay me attention. Because of all this." He waved a hand at the Granians and the vast estate spread below them. "I guess I was a little arrogant."

Harry laughed. "A little?"

"Then a scrawny little boy on the Hogwart's Express looked at me, just me, not my name and my possessions, and told me I was completely worthless. The look on your face, Harry, when you told me I was the wrong sort! I used to have nightmares about it!"

"I'm sorry." Harry reached out his hand, and Draco did likewise. Their hands touched for a moment in midair.

"Don't be sorry," said Draco. "I deserved it. I was so sheltered and stuck up, it took me until Sixth Year to realise Voldemort wasn't a nice person!"

"You worked it out eventually."

"I just wish the cost hadn't been so high," said Draco grimly. Harry could tell he was thinking of his family.

Far ahead, Harry could see a broad, shining lake. Behind it, visible through the trees, was a white mansion.

"We're nearly there," said Draco. "Harry, whatever happens with Snape, I want you to know I wouldn't have missed being with you for the world. I love you." He frowned at Harry's reaction. "Stop making faces! One of these days I'm going to prove it, and then you're the bottom!"

They were losing height, spiralling down around the stately home. Like the Granians, seeing Malfoy Mansion in Draco's memories was no preparation for how gorgeous it was in real life. The roof was dark grey, with chimneys sprouting up everywhere. There were elegant, white plaster patterns of leaves and flowers on the white walls and the entrance was behind a row of columns. The lines of windows shone.

"I'm surprised the Ministry hasn't taken your house and money, Draco," Hermione shouted, so she could be heard above the flapping wings. "Muggle law has a thing called 'restitution'. The government takes the money and property of convicted criminals."

"The Ministry wouldn't DARE to take the Malfoy gold," said Draco scornfully. "It's in Gringotts. When the owner isn't around to claim their gold, the goblins consider that it belongs to them, and anyone stupid enough to steal goblin gold deserves their sudden, painful death. And as for Malfoy Mansion," he stared down at the magnificent building. "It's Unplottable. The Ministry can't even FIND it if the owner doesn't want them to, let alone steal it."

"How did the Ministry manage to raid your house then?" asked Harry.

Draco frowned. "Father kept the wards loose, before he was put in Azkaban. It was all part of looking like fine, upstanding citizens, instead of Dark wizards. We could have kept the Ministry out, but then wizarding society wouldn't have had anything to do with us. Of course, when Father was arrested, Mother and I tightened the wards as far as they could go. No more Ministry raids, but we suffered social death."

"How can Snape get in?" asked Harry.

"Relations, and friends of the family can still enter, even if they stop being our friends. That's why I haven't been home. It wasn't the Ministry I was worried about, but Death Eaters. Malfoy Mansion could be swarming with them."

Harry thought of Draco's Aunt Bellatrix and shuddered.

They landed on the pale, gravel driveway with a shower of stones, galloping and gently losing speed, until they stopped in front of the huge front doors. Ron slid off his Granian like an old sack. The others got down with more grace. Hermione couldn't leave her horse, until she'd patted its nose and Charmed some sugar.

They crunched over the gravel and Draco flung opened the doors. The entrance hall of Malfoy Mansion was vast. A glittering chandelier hung overhead. The floor was chequer board black and white tiles. A grand staircase swept out of sight in two directions.

"Wands at the ready," said Harry. For all he knew, Bellatrix was waiting just inside.

But she was not. A line of bowing house elves was.

"Master Draco, sir. Good to see you again!" they chorused. All of them were wearing clean pillowcases and beaming smiles.

Harry saw that his boyfriend wasn't daring to look at Hermione.

"Aren't you going to introduce us, Draco?" asked Hermione coldly.

Draco introduced Panky, Hanky, Manky, Perky and Slinky. "Don't say the names of the first two in the opposite order, or they'll giggle all day," he said.

Very solemnly, and to the house elves' complete surprise, Hermione went down the line, shaking their tiny hands.

"Master Draco, sir. Severus Snape is waiting for you in the study," said Perky, when she had finished. Hanky was looking at his just-shaken hand, if as he'd never seen it before.

The quartet glanced at each other nervously.

"Father's study is up the stairs," said Draco, and set off. The others followed him.

Malfoy Mansion wasn't at all what Harry expected of a Dark wizarding home. After living at Grimmauld Place, he'd expected a grim, dark, haunted manor. But the building was light and airy, and gave little clue that the owners were Dark. A stuffed Antipodean Opal-Eye dragon, with iridescent eyes, was the most off-putting thing Harry saw. He guessed that all the incriminating Dark objects had been hidden away from Ministry view. Or perhaps the Malfoys simply had more taste than the Blacks?

Portraits of white-blond people chatted and gossiped around them. None of them screamed, but were they paying particular attention to Hermione and Ron? Harry studied the portraits as he went past, and wondered.

"This is it," whispered Draco, when they reached a closed wooden door. "We have to be very close to Snape when we do it. Expelliarmus, all of us together. On my signal." He pushed open the door.

The study looked like a library. The walls were lined with books, from floor to ceiling. Most were leather bound, and some looked ancient and precious. All sorts of treasures lurked in glass cases.

But Harry's attention was drawn to a winged, green leather chair near the unlit fireplace. A black sleeve and a long-fingered hand, holding a glass of red wine, rested on the chair arm.

Harry nodded at his friends and gestured to the chair. They raised their wands and silently crept closer.

There's something wrong, Harry thought. He wasn't sure what. All he knew was that his skin was crawling, as though unfriendly eyes were watching him. He quickly turned his head and scanned the room, but it appeared to be empty, apart from Snape, who was in the chair, still mostly hidden from view.

As they moved to the front of the chair, Snape gave a great start, and drew out his wand, as quick as a snake.

"Now!" cried Draco, and they all fired off silent Expelliarmus spells.

But even as Harry fired off his, he knew they had made a terrible mistake. Snape's wand did not fly out of his hand. Instead, shockwaves rippled all over his body, from where the spells struck him, and he vanished, in a puff of smoke.

Before Harry could react, a great jet of light shot out, not from the smoke-filled chair, but from behind them. The quartet's wands flew out of their hands and over their heads. They wheeled around, as a familiar, sarcastic voice spoke.

"Tut, tut. How very disappointing! The Gryffindor heroes and their new ... friend ... cannot recognise a simple Simulacrum Spell when they see it."

Snape was standing beside a glass case, filled with Neolithic wands. He held the quartet's wands in his left hand and his own in his right. The cold smile on his face told Harry they were in very serious trouble.

"So, you tried to ambush me, Draco," said Snape. His voice was little more than a whisper, but it could be heard around the room.

"I'm sorry, Severus. We weren't sure what-"

"Traitor!" Snape cut him off. Draco's eyes widened. His old Head of House had clearly never spoken to him like this before. Snape glared at him disdainfully. "I would have expected a bit more gratitude from a boy I worked so hard to help. A few days spent with Gryffindors has made you as foolish as they are! I trust, Draco, that this ridiculous attempt to ambush me wasn't your idea?"

"It was my idea," said Ron bravely. "Draco didn't like it, but we convinced him. We just wanted to talk to you safely. We weren't going to hurt you."

"As if you could if you tried!" said Snape scathingly. "Your mind is an open book, Mr Weasley, and your reflexes are slow, Miss Granger. As for you, Mr Potter, you doubt your own instincts too much to heed what they are telling you. I, Severus Snape, will not be disarmed by a pathetic gaggle of teenagers!"

"I thought you were calling yourself the Half-Blood Prince now?" said Harry. From the moment his wand had left his fingers, he'd fought to maintain his Occlumency. It was agony. Sweat was trickling down his face. But he kept the majestic, tranquil image of Dumbledore in his head, and his mental shield stayed in place.

Snape's black, penetrating eyes looked into his and he felt the panther claws of Legilimency tear at the icy shield in his mind. But the shield held. To his joy, he saw Snape frown.

"Potter, you're keeping me out without a wand."

"Draco taught me," said Harry, not breaking eye contact.

"He didn't teach you that! The only other person I've ever seen, who could maintain Occlumency without a wand was-"

"Lily Evans?" said Draco suddenly.

Snape's head snapped around to look at him.

"I'm right, aren't I? Lily Evans could do Occlumency without a wand," said Draco. Snape's face didn't move, but Draco nodded with satisfaction. "It was an easy guess," he added, in answer to Snape's unspoken question. "Harry's got his mother's eyes. It makes sense that he's exactly like her-"

"He's NOTHING like her," snarled Snape, and the sudden venom in his voice made Draco take a step backwards. "He's just like his filthy, bullying father!"

Harry bristled. "Don't you dare insult my father," he snapped.

"Bullying?" Draco looked confused. "Harry's no bully."

Snape's eyes flicked towards him. "How can you say that? You were Potter's main victim," he said. "In fact, he nearly killed you!"

"I shot first that day in the bathroom," said Draco matter-of-factly. "I was going to use Crucio. Harry didn't know what that cutting spell did, and he's since apologised to me. And as for all the other times we fought, I started them too. All I had to do was insult Harry or his friends, until he snapped. He's got a terrible temper. Did his mother have a bad temper too?"

Harry was astonished to find he was waiting for Snape's answer with baited breath. He knew so little about his mother. Remus and Sirius had been his father's friends, not his mother's. As far as he knew, none of his mother's magical friends were still alive...

...except for the man in billowing black robes in front of him.

"Yes," said Snape very slowly, rubbing his chin. "Lily Evans had a terrible temper."

"Professor Snape," piped up Ron. "Will you give us our wands back?"

Snape's eyes, which had been unfocused and staring into space, abruptly focused on the quartet and narrowed. "No," he said. He flicked his wand and Harry felt invisible bonds go around him, and saw them going around the others. With another flick of Snape's wand, they rose half a metre into the air and hung there, struggling. "Potter attacked my step-father this morning. I don't trust any of you. But there is something I need to show you. In the cellar..."

"Put me down! There's nothing in the cellar but wine," said Draco, fighting and wriggling as though trapped inside an invisible cocoon.

With a thin smile, Snape said. "My ... workshop ... is there now." He raised his wand and walked towards the door. The quartet was pulled after him, still bound up and floating above the floor.

oOoOoOo

Snape wasn't very careful about guiding Harry around obstacles as he dragged them down to the cellar. When the Gryffindor's head bumped against a low ceiling on the stairs, Draco remonstrated loudly with his ex-Head of House.

"Be quiet, Draco," said Snape.

"I won't be quiet! Stop bashing Harry against things! I won't stand for it! It's not fair ... AH!" Draco's voice went from petulant, to a stifled yell of pain.

The Gryffindors stared at him. "What did Snape do to you, Draco?" asked Harry. Snape had flinched at the same time Draco yelled.

"My Dark Mark just burned black."

"The Dark Lord is calling us," said Snape, pulling them down the stairs.

Harry's lip curled in disgust. "Well, hadn't you better be going, then?"

Snape looked at him coldly. "Not yet, Potter. I already know what the Dark Lord is planning. The Death Eaters will be splitting up into three groups tonight. One will be taking hostages at the Ministry of Magic, another at St Mungo's, and the third group will go with the Dark Lord to Hogwarts and help him take down the wards."

"They're taking over Hogwarts?" said Harry incredulously.

"Indeed. They will all be meeting, with the hostages, in the Great Hall at midnight. The Dark Lord is claiming Hogwarts as his new headquarters."

This news was too terrible for Harry to grasp right away. He stared at Snape in horror.

"V-Voldemort is taking over Hogwarts? But he can't!" gasped Hermione.

"This is partially your doing," said Snape. "The Dark Lord always planned to claim Hogwarts at some point. But the killing of Nagini has forced him to do it now."

"How can killing Nagini have made Voldemort want to take over Hogwarts?" asked Ron scornfully.

"It is due to the ... interesting ... effect Potter's blood," said Snape. Now he was dragging them down a long corridor. "That blood has run in his veins since he used it to recreate his body and it contains a quality he hasn't experienced before. Love."

Harry remembered the sudden, weird expression of triumph on Dumbledore's face, when he learned how Voldemort had revived himself. Didn't that mean that his blood was bad for Voldemort? Snape was talking about it as if though it were good.

"The Dark Lord loved Nagini, thanks to Potter's blood. Now he is broken hearted over her death, and desperate to claim the only other thing he ever loved - Hogwarts. I must admit, I rather encouraged it."

"You encouraged Voldemort to take over Hogwarts?" Harry was beyond furious. He felt he was stuck in a waking nightmare. He imagined Voldemort sitting behind the Headmaster's desk, where Dumbledore had sat, and where McGonagall should have rightfully have been sitting. He imagined the helpless horror on the faces of the portraits of previous headmasters, as Voldemort used the enrolment system to track down every single Muggle-born in the world, bring them to Hogwarts, and kill them.

Snape didn't even look at him. "And speaking of claiming." Nagini's body flew out of Harry's pocket. Harry wriggled, but he couldn't stop it. Snape opened the bag and gazed inside. The foul smell of rotting snake filled the stairwell. "Excellent. The Dark Lord has been searching far and wide for his dead pet," he said with satisfaction, closing the bag and tucking it into his robes.

"Don't give her to him!" cried Draco.

"Silence!"

They entered the cellar, and Snape closed the thick, wooden door behind them. The pale, grey stone lining the room was scorched and eroded. Harry felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise up. He sensed vast amounts of magic had been expended in this room. What had happened in here?

Was this a torture chamber?

"You'd better join Voldemort soon," Harry stated, with a boldness he didn't feel. "He won't appreciate it if you're late."

"He'll forgive me, when I bring him the Chosen One, his two friends, and the traitor," said Snape, with a smirk. "Or what's left of you."

The quartet shivered.

Hermione whimpered.

"No!" cried Draco. "Don't do this! Severus! Please! Let them go, you can kill me instead..."

"Silencio!" said Snape, and suddenly Draco was swearing, and begging, but no sound came out.

"Take that off him!" shouted Harry. "Are you afraid to hear what he says?"

"You are here to listen and watch. Not talk. There is something you must all see." Snape made a summoning motion with his wand.

Harry felt a coldness come over the room, heard screaming in his mind, and he knew what had been summoned, even before he heard the hollow, rattling breathing.

The Dementor appeared in the cellar, threadbare robes fluttering. The living nightmare Harry was suspended in grew worse. He KNEW this Dementor. Its eye sockets were hollow and empty. Its mouth was a wasted, lipless sucking hole. But blond hair still clung to the skull and the face was still recognisable.

It had once been Barty Crouch Junior, the Death Eater who masqueraded as Mad-Eye Moody, and had been Kissed.

Snape looked caressingly at the Dementor. "Tonight you will feast," he told it. "Your favourite food - human soul."

The Dementor breathed faster.

Ron moaned. Draco shouted and yelled silently.

"I am the Dementor Master," said Snape, smirking at the quartet. "The Dark Lord offered me a reward, for killing Dumbledore and this is what I chose. To control and guide all the Dementors in Britain."

The Dementor that had once been Barty Crouch Junior turned its blind face towards Harry and raised its wasted arms hungrily.

"Fascinating pieces of Dark magic, Dementors," said Snape. "New ones are created by taking a person, who has suffered the Dementor's Kiss, and soaking them in a lake. The water steams. That is why it is misty when Dementors are being made. The body, which still breaths, despite not having a soul, is drowned. It is left to rot, then rises from the water, a new Dementor."

"You're teaching us," said Harry incredulously. "You madman! I can't believe you're teaching us at a time like this. Why bother? We're about to have our souls sucked out, and I always hated your lessons anyway-"

Snape stared at him coldly. "Silencio!"

Harry opened his mouth and no sound came out. He swore at Snape, hoping he could lip-read; then he looked desperately at the others, struggling in their invisible bonds. I'm sorry, he mouthed.

"And now we shall begin," said Snape.

oOoOoOo

_**Author's Notes:** The End._

_ I kid, I kid! There's more! But how's Harry going to get out of this one? I've got to think of a cunning plan. Encourage me with reviews, please!_

_ I based the outside of Malfoy Mansion on Kenwood House, on Hampstead Heath, in London._

_ **Replies to reviews:**_

_ Thank you to the following people for reviewing: NinjaoftheDarkness, precioussring, telleo, Anissina June, Kit turned Mighty, oli, Gryffindorgrl86, PENGUiN2006MASTER, ThePotionsMiss, DBZfanalways, FALLINA, AngelLuva, Jakar, InTheTelling, Silver-Tiger-Fira, bellajen94, HecateDeMort, Muchacha, Riku-Rocks, kozie, Potter's Wifey, fufu.a.k.a.speechless, rekahneko, thrnbrooke, LunaSky, miss brownie, Your Mom Is My Heart., Yellowwolf, NATWEST, Anon, dracoizumi, draconian snowangel216, GreenEyedCatDragon, Willow26, CatWriter, and keske._

_ Moyima: Thanks for your review. The last chapter was my "Somewhere Over The Rainbow". It nearly got left out, because it didn't advance the plot, then it ended up being the most popular chapter. Forty-five reviews in three days! I'm gob smacked. _

_ Fmh: Thanks! Maybe you wish Snape WASN'T in this chapter now? ;-)_

_ ProperT: Thanks for voting for The Bodyguard in the quilltoparchment dot com competition!_

_ Yueli: The Bodyguard takes place instead of Deathly Hallows._

_ Norwegian MoonShadow: Thanks for your review. I hope I didn't scare you away with Snape and Lily! ;-) _


	33. Potter Victorious

**The Bodyguard**

** Chapter 33: Potter Victorious**

The Dementor glided towards the quartet, and reached for Harry with rotting hands.

Expecto Patronum, thought Harry. But without a wand, nothing happened. He couldn't flee. He couldn't even speak. All he could do was keep his Occlumency shield going, but he knew it couldn't save him.

The lipless, soul-sucking mouth closed in...

"Don't fret, Potter," said Snape lazily. He seemed to be enjoying the sight of his least favourite ex-student face to face with a hungry Dementor. He raised the tip of his wand. "Expecto Patronum!"

Not one, but two silvery shapes exploded from the tip of Snape's wand. A smiling woman, with almond-shaped eyes like Harry's, and a tall, majestic wizard, with kind, twinkling eyes. Their long hair stretched into dazzling threads, joining them together.

It was lucky Harry was held up by the spell that kept him captive. Otherwise, he would have slumped to the floor, with the shock of seeing the shining images of Lily Potter and Albus Dumbledore, fused as the single most powerful spirit guardian he had ever seen.

The Dementor gave a great start as it sensed the Patronus. It turned to flee, but the Patronus grasped it by the arms. The Dementor thrashed helplessly.

"I can recommend having a Patronus with hands," said Snape, watching the undead creature's fruitless struggles. "They're useful. They can hold Dementors steady, as well as chase them away."

Harry felt the Silencio spell fade. Now it was shock that kept him silent.

"Of course, a changed Patronus is also a weakness," Snape went on. "It doesn't do, to let the world know your true loyalties. I said so to Tonks, when her Patronus changed."

"I remember," whispered Harry.

But Snape wasn't looking at him. "Stop struggling," he told the Dementor silkily. "You won't go hungry." He reached into his robes, and brought out a small, golden cup with two finely wrought handles, and a badger engraved upon one side.

"Hufflepuff's cup! So you're the one who found it first," said Hermione.

Black eyes glanced in her direction. "Indeed. You were far too slow," said Snape snidely. He held up the cup by its base, and the Dementor lunged for it, though the Patronus held it back. Snape's eyes narrowed. "Yes, you sense a piece of human soul in this cup. A piece that you may consume," he told the Dementor. The Patronus loosened its grip and the Dementor's rotten fingers closed around the handles. Its rattling breathing intensified, as it held the cup up before its blind face.

His cloak rippling, Snape backed away towards the quartet. Harry saw he was weaving a powerful magical barrier around all five of them. The barrier slid down, like a steep dome of thick, transparent glass. Now Harry could see the Dementor but no longer hear it.

But the undead creature paid them no attention. It investigated its new prize with obvious relish. Then it put its lips to the cup and sucked.

Nothing happened at first. Slowly, the cup started to glow red-hot. Steam rose from the Dementor's hands, and they appeared to be sizzling where they touched the handles, though the undead creature showed no sign of pain.

Harry remembered the cursed ring, which had left Dumbledore with a burned, withered, dead hand, and shuddered. This was the same curse. But this time, Snape was making no attempt to stop it.

As the Dementor consumed the last of the soul fragment, white-hot flames exploded out from the cup. They tore through the feeding Dementor, burning it to ashes in an instant.

The cup, still red-hot, fell to the ground. Ashes fell around it, like grey rain.

The double Patronus regarded Harry with two pairs of gentle eyes, apparently entirely unaffected by the heat of the Dementor's demise.

Snape waved his wand. A spinning vortex gathered up the ashes. Another wave of his wand and Hufflepuff's Cup, still red-hot, floated into the air. The mortal remains of Barty Crouch Junior flew inside, and a lid appeared and sealed the cup. Dumbledore's ghostly image reached out and took the handles, before it fell back to the floor.

The barrier faded. "Poor Barty," said Snape softly. "He didn't deserve this fate. I knew him before Voldemort sent him insane." He said the name of the Dark wizard, without the slightest trouble, though Ron shuddered. "Barty was only a troubled teenager, grieving over his dying mother, and rebelling against his tyrannical father, when he got in with the wrong crowd. Voldemort tempted him. You know what that's like, Draco."

Draco nodded grimly. "I do," he said.

"You survived with your mind intact, Draco. You're strong. But poor Barty lost his. He became obsessed with the idea of killing his own father. Voldemort turned him into a cold-blooded torturer and murderer." Snape sighed. "I'm sure the sane Barty I use to know, would have been delighted to have played a small part in making Voldemort mortal. It's fitting that his final resting place is Hufflepuff's Cup. A proper burial is the only thing I can do for him now."

It occurred to Harry, that he, and the rest of the quartet, had been free of their bonds, since Snape had conjured the barrier, but they had been too absorbed in what was going on, to notice or take advantage of their freedom. Having seen Snape destroy the Horcrux, Harry no longer wanted to disarm his ex-teacher.

"There is one other thing you need to see," said Snape. With a wave of his wand, a stone, which had appeared to be tightly fixed into the wall, slid out. There was a space behind and Snape reached inside and brought out a locket, with an 'S' of emeralds on one side.

Slytherin's locket.

Harry's heart leaped as he took the small piece of jewellery from Snape. He'd seen it before, at Grimmauld Place, while they were tidying up, years ago. If only they'd realised then what it was! Sirius's younger brother had brought it there, after taking it from the sea cave. But he had died of the potion, before he could destroy it. Mundungus Fletcher had stolen the locket, and sold it to Aberforth Dumbledore. Then a thief had stunned Aberforth and taken the locket.

Now they knew who that thief was...

The locket, which had been sealed shut, now gaped like a dead oyster. The soul fragment it had once contained was gone, and the metal looked burned and bent. Harry easily guessed how it had got that way.

"You must go through lots of Dementors," he said.

"What of it?" Snape shrugged. "I am the Dementor Master and I don't have to justify their loss. In fact," he added, smirking nastily. "I have lost even more Dementors than the Horcruxes can account for. I have been ... careless."

"Horcruxes?" asked Draco. "You mean those ... things ... that make Voldemort immortal?"

"You didn't tell Draco what they were called?" said Snape sarcastically to Harry.

"He didn't need to tell their name," Draco defended Harry. "He told me what they did and that was enough."

"Horcruxes are objects in which Voldemort has embedded a piece of his soul," explained Harry hastily. "They keep the rest of his soul anchored to this plane of existence. He cannot die, while his Horcruxes exist. There were six, not counting the piece in Voldemort's body. You've just seen the cup destroyed. The locket is history."

Snape looked pleased with himself.

"Dumbledore destroyed the ring," Harry continued. "I destroyed Riddle's diary, that your father gave to Ginny Weasley-"

"My Father helped destroy part of Voldemort's immortality? No wonder Voldemort wants him dead," said Draco.

"Then there's Nagini, and finally there's something of Gryffindor or Ravenclaw, but we don't know what."

Draco nodded. "Horcruxes," he repeated, as though tasting the syllables.

"So finally you tell, Draco the truth. But you claim to love him," Snape sneered. "With love should come trust."

"The Vow-" Harry began, but Snape cut him off.

"Give the Vow to me," he demanded, holding out his hand.

"Yes," said Draco enthusiastically. "I want you to read it and find a loophole, Severus. Nott and Hermione think I'm completely trapped."

Reaching into his robes, Harry drew out the crumpled Vow. Snape took it, and smoothed it out, with an expression that suggested he was disgusted at how badly Harry treated his possessions. Glancing coldly at Harry, Snape raised the Vow and began to read.

Harry was used to reactions of horror and disgust, while the Vow was being read. But nothing prepared him for Snape's reaction.

Before Snape had read very far, his mocking laughter filled the hot, smoky cellar.

"Fools!" cried Snape. "Umbridge and Barnes are bigger idiots than I ever imagined! The Vow is supposed to make the victim fall in madly in love with their master!"

"I know," said Harry miserably. He was very put out that Snape found their plight amusing.

"Umbridge must have expected Draco to fall in love with Harry, be rejected because Harry was straight, then die of a broken heart," said Snape.

"That sounds about right. Umbridge did ask me if I had a girlfriend," said Harry.

"But that didn't happen. Harry loves me, and I love him," said Draco. He gave Harry a fierce look. "Nothing to do with the Vow."

Snape handed the Vow back to Harry. "Tell me, Draco, how did you feel when you were first put under the Vow?"

"I don't remember too well," said Draco. "The Aurors had bashed my head and I was dizzy. I hadn't slept. I was starving." He rubbed his index finger against his mouth. "I remember Harry looked like the best thing I'd ever seen."

"You had an adoring look on your face. Like a house elf," said Harry.

Draco made a face, as if looking like a house elf was beneath him. "But then we fought, and strangling flame got me." His hand went to his throat in remembrance.

"I'm sorry, Draco," said Harry quietly. He wrapped his arms around his boyfriend.

Draco smiled. "But after that, things got better," he said, snuggling back. "Harry took me home, let me get clean for the first time in weeks. Had me healed, cooked me food, gave me his clothes, gave me his bed. And he was so sweet, and shy, and he BLUSHED whenever I touched him. Like he belonged to me, instead of the other way around. I started thinking I could get used to his company."

"What happened then?" asked Snape, with a slight curl of his lip.

Draco's pale cheeks turned pink. "The best night of my life." He pulled Harry's arms closer around him. "I woke up the next morning and Harry was just lying there, asleep. So peaceful. So beautiful. All mine. So I just lay there, looking at him and..."

"You realised you were in love with him?"

"Yes," said Draco. "And since then, I haven't felt the Vow at all. I used to feel it, around my neck, waiting to strangle me. Since then, I've been free ... or I thought I was. Nott and Hermione think that my feelings are proof that the Vow has me under its complete control."

"The Vow attempts to cause love, and withdraws when it finds it. What does that tell you?" Snape asked.

When no one replied right away, Snape folded his arms and drummed the fingers of one hand against his opposite upper arm. His unsettling, black eyes silently informed the quartet that they were dunderheads. It was like being back in school.

"It tells us that the Vow has entirely enslaved Draco...?" offered Hermione meekly.

"It tells us that Umbridge and Barnes are fools!" exclaimed Snape.

Hermione flinched and Snape started to pace, robes swirling. "Why haven't you worked this out for yourselves? I didn't take your Potions class in your Sixth Year, but Slughorn is a good teacher. He taught me. I know he would have covered Amortentia."

"The most powerful Love Potion?" asked Harry.

"Yes, Slughorn covered it," said Ron. "He showed us a cauldron full."

"And what did you learn about Amortentia's properties?" asked Snape, with a condescending sneer.

Harry wondered what Snape was leading to. "That it's steam rises in characteristic spirals," he said.

Snape winced and stopped pacing, as though Harry's stupidity hurt him. With eyes tightly squeezed shut, he said, "And what else?"

"That it smells different, depending on who smells it," said Ron.

Not opening his eyes, Snape said, "And?"

"That it doesn't work," said Hermione quickly. "Even though it's the most powerful Love Potion, it only causes a short-lived infatuation, lasting a day. It's impossible for magic to manufacture or imitate love."

Snape's eyes opened.

"Oh," said Hermione softly.

The words sank in. The quartet stared open-mouthed at Snape.

"How long have you felt love for Potter, Draco?" asked Snape.

Draco gulped. "A few days now. It seems to be getting stronger, the more time I spend with him," he said.

"Then you truly love him," said Snape simply. "A manufactured infatuation would have faded by now."

Such a powerful feeling of hope bloomed in Harry's heart, that he almost forgot to breath.

Snape shook his head, as if he despaired of the quartet. "Tell me Potter, have you seen Draco's Patronus?"

"Yes," said Harry. "I taught him how to make it."

"You were so keen on seeing MY Patronus, and knowing my true loyalties," Snape glanced at the serene, silvery figures. "But did you ever cast your eyes over your own boyfriend's Patronus?"

"It's a ferret, with human eyes," said Harry.

"YOUR eyes, Potter. A Patronus takes on some, or all of the appearance, of the people its owner loves. Incontrovertible proof that Draco truly loved you has been under your nose for days, and you didn't deign to notice!"

Harry was flabbergasted. But Snape had not finished.

"When the Vow sensed Draco loved you, Harry, it thought its work was done and it faded. It wasn't designed to detect the difference between infatuation and true love. Umbridge and Barnes never considered that someone might freely give of their love, and break their supposedly Unbreakable Vow!"

Harry heard Draco laughing in gleeful triumph, and felt him turning around in his arms.

"By the way, congratulations are in order for Draco," said Snape coolly. "Apparently, you're bottoming tonight, Harry."

He must have read our minds, thought Harry. But it was the last coherent thought he had, before Draco flung his arms around him and kissed him passionately, sobbing with joy. He kissed him back, and squeezed him so hard, it was a wonder Draco could draw breath.

oOoOoOo

"Severus, how did Barty Crouch Junior know my Patronus was a ferret? He must have known, if he Transfigured me into one," said Draco, a few minutes later.

Snape had cast snide remarks in Draco and Harry's direction, until they had finally stopped snogging.

Now Snape looked thoughtful. "He couldn't have known. He must have used Veritasformo."

"I've never heard of it," said Hermione with interest.

"It's the easiest Transfiguration."

"Professor McGonagall never taught us-" Ron began.

"Of course not, Mr Weasley! Professor McGonagall would never dream of teaching you Dark magic, and Veritasformo is one of the darkest spells. It turns its victim into their true form."

"Why would that be Dark?" asked Harry.

Snape rolled his eyes. "Don't you remember the Law of Morpheus, Potter?"

Hermione nodded eagerly. "Morpheus - states - that - the - Transfiguration - of - a - living - creature - into - an - inanimate - object - will - be - irreversible - in - most - cases," she rattled off from her memory.

As if Hermione had not spoken, Snape said, "A person's true form may be something that is not alive. Transfiguring a person into a stone, or a block of wood is usually fatal. Alternatively, their true form may be a dangerous animal, or something inanimate and dangerous, like a flow of molten lava, that will kill the spell caster. Veritasformo has been banned for centuries and is only used by the darkest of wizards. Professor McGonagall should have suspected Veritasformo and guessed that Moody was an impostor when he Transfigured Draco." Snape frowned. "We all should have guessed..."

"No teacher witnessed it. You shouldn't blame yourself," Draco pointed out.

Abruptly, Snape started to pace again, like a black panther in a cage. "But enough talk about what should have happened years ago. We're wasting time. We must destroy all the Horcruxes before midnight."

Harry shuddered. "Yes! Before Voldemort takes over Hogwarts."

"We've got Nagini," said Ron. "Now there's only something of Gryffindor or of Ravenclaw left."

"Yes," said Snape, and Harry didn't like the way he looked at him.

"It can't be something of Ravenclaw's, because all her possessions were destroyed," said Hermione.

"As far as my ancestor, Godric Gryffindor was concerned, he left the Sorting Hat, and a sword, both of which Voldemort never touched," said Harry, wondering why Draco had flinched and was staring at him strangely. "I believe he may also have left marble fragments from his grave. But I find it hard to believe that megalomaniac like Voldemort would have embedded a piece of his soul into a dull chunk of marble."

"What does a Horcrux look like?" asked Draco. "I mean, once it's embedded in an object." The Slytherin looked slightly ill.

"It doesn't look like anything," said Harry. "You saw the cup. It didn't give any indication there was a piece of human soul buried inside."

"What if the soul fragment was buried in a living creature?" asked Draco hesitantly.

Snape's eyes narrowed.

"We've got an example right here. Nagini," said Hermione bossily. "Let's look at her." She paused, when Snape glared at her and drew himself up. "Sorry, please may we look at Nagini, Professor Snape?"

Snape irritably brought out the bag, opened it and dumped the decaying snake onto the stone floor. The quartet winced at the smell.

Draco crouched down beside Nagini and prodded her head with the toe of his shoe. He seemed to find what he was looking for, for he abruptly stood up, went to Harry and wrapped his arms protectively around him.

"Draco, what's the matter?" Harry asked.

But Draco was staring hard at Snape. "I won't let you kill him," he stated. Harry could feel him trembling.

"We may not have a choice," replied Snape wearily.

"I don't understand," said Harry. He extricated himself from Draco's arms, and went to see what had disturbed his boyfriend so much.

There was very little left of Nagini's neck. Draco's foot had crushed it to a pulp. But her head had survived, as though it were somehow reinforced, compared to the rest of her body. There was a faint marking above her sunken eyes. Harry crouched down for a closer look and felt his stomach flip over with dread.

There, amid the scales on the top of Nagini's head, was a lightning bolt shaped scar.

oOoOoOo

_**Author's Notes:** (sing-song voice) Harry's a Horcrux! His head's going to explode! ;-)_

_ Now I've got to think of a way of getting that Horcrux out of Harry, and still having a Harry afterwards. Could everyone carry on without him? Encourage me with reviews, please!_

_ **Replies to reviews:**_

_ Fifty-six reviews in three days. I can't even get my head around that one, except to say thank you._

_ Thank you to the following people for reviewing: shadowama, Lisi the slayer, StunningSpellRocks2345, Morrigan, inu-youkai 911, EvanNJames, ExhaleDreams, Dreamer of Destiny, PENGUiN2006MASTER, draconian snowangel216, Titus and Driger, NATWEST, Jester08, LarienMiriel, NinjaoftheDarkness, SLNS, sillypuppy, tenchiko, 3-left-turns, ThePotionsMiss, Yellowwolf, Norwegian MoonShadow, Kyla Mizuki, mon-ami-runa, Gryffindorgrl86, precioussring, ProperT, AngelLuva, Billy, BabylonGirl, thrnbrooke, DBZfanalways, InTheTelling, MayuBlack, txcalbud, bellajen94, CatWriter, LadyDragonWolfKnight, 6tigercubs, Silver-Tiger-Fira, Moyima, Muchacha, dracoizumi, HecateDeMort, LunaSky, and Potter's Wifey._

_ dynonugget: Thanks for reading all the chapters all in one day. That's nearly the equivalent of one the later, doorstop-sized Potter books, except on an eye-searing white computer screen background. I hope your eyes are okay!_

_ namkrowa91: I hope you didn't miss work for this chapter. Thank you very much for reviewing! ;-)_

_ Naesy: I guess I owe you a hundred galleons. ;-) Glad you liked the almost-bondage scene. Harry isn't a natural submissive. He needs practice! Bwahahaha! ;-)_

_ Fmh: I didn't know Order of the Phoenix had Hermione mentioning she hated horses and flying. Ooops! Continuity error! I've Googled it and I can't find it. What chapter was it? The purpose of that scene was to show why Draco can be proud and arrogant sometimes. Even Hermione, with her intelligence and sense, couldn't help but be a little star struck by Draco's fabulous wealth. _

_ telleo: Thanks for reviewing and voting for this fanfic at quilltoparchment dot com._

_ mon-ami-runa: Brilliant guess, regarding Snape using the Dementor to destroy the Horcrux. Thanks for reviewing!_

_ OddKitty: Thanks for the review, that was like a whole alternate chapter! _


	34. The Gryffindor Horcrux

_**Author's Notes: **Thank you to inu-youkai 911 for the beta read._

oOoOoOo**  
**

**The Bodyguard**

** Chapter 34: The Gryffindor Horcrux**

"No," said Harry, shaking his head in disbelief. He backed away from Nagini so quickly that he stumbled and nearly fell.

Draco caught him and Harry leaned back into his arms. Now they both were trembling.

"Yes, Potter. You're the Gryffindor Horcrux," said Snape silkily. "Why else would Voldemort have given orders to spare your miserable life? He knew a Killing Curse, fired into your scar, would have destroyed his soul, as well as yours. Ordering the Death Eaters to avoid your scar would have begged the question why, and Voldemort trusts no one with the secret of his immortality." Snape sneered. "No, he had to kill you himself, while preserving the Horcrux in your head."

"If we destroy the Horcrux in Harry's scar, he'll burn to ashes. Look at what happened to Hufflepuff's Cup," said Hermione unsteadily. She and Ron were hugging each other for comfort.

"Voldemort protected his Horcruxes with terrible Curses," said Snape. "He wanted those who destroyed his soul fragments to die in agony."

"We can't kill Harry," cried Draco, giving his boyfriend a protective, possessive squeeze.

Ron was shaking his head as though trying to dispel a bad dream. Hermione whimpered.

"Can we be certain Nagini's scar - and my scar - are Horcruxes?" asked Harry. He knew what he had to do, if he were truly the Gryffindor Horcrux. But first he had to be sure...

"I devised a test," said Snape, pulling out his wand and pointing it at Nagini. "Animus Aperio!" he said.

Nothing happened at first. The quartet leaned in. Then Ron cried, "Look!"

Faint, white light was pouring from Nagini's scar. As they watched, it grew blindingly bright. They backed away, shielding their eyes.

"That's a positive result, I take it," said Harry grimly, as the light began to fade.

Snape nodded. There was a strange, unfathomable glitter in his black eyes. "Your turn, Potter," he said.

Harry felt Draco's embrace tighten to the point of being painful, as Snape approached.

"Animus Aperio!"

Instantly, Harry's body glowed white. Fascinated, he raised a bright hand, and flexed fingers resembling neon tubes. He had to avert his eyes from the painful brilliance.

Draco released him and turned him around by his shoulders, squinting at his scar through a curtain white-blond hair.

"Well?" asked Harry breathlessly.

"You're glowing all over. That must be YOUR soul," said Hermione. "But now your scar is starting to glow even brighter."

"No, it's not, it's just a trick of the light!" insisted Draco. His hands squeezed Harry's shoulders so hard that they hurt.

"Draco, the scar is a Horcrux," said Snape.

"It can't be! I won't let you kill him!"

"Specul!" said Harry. The air before him took on a mirror-like sheen, and he examined his reflection. The glow of an extra piece of soul in his scar was unmistakeable. "It all makes sense," he said shakily. "Before Voldemort closed his mind against me, I could FEEL him inside me. Feel his emotions, see through his eyes. Sense his nearness. I can speak in Parselmouth just like him. Well, Voldemort IS inside me. I am the Gryffindor Horcrux. Not the sword. Not the hat. Me!" He was absolutely certain now and he knew what his fate would be. Everything seemed so clear and distinct in the light shining from his body. The dear, worried faces of his friends. The pointed, breathtakingly gorgeous face of his beloved...

The light from Harry's body began to fade, and his conjured mirror shimmered into nothingness. Draco embraced him again and pressed his face hard into his neck. Harry hugged him back hard, mentally saying goodbye.

"No, this isn't happening," wailed Hermione.

"You were right, Draco," said Harry. "You told me Avada Kedavra doesn't scar, and some other powerful Curse had marked me. No wonder Voldemort told me my mother didn't have to die."

Draco lifted his head.

Snape made a sudden, convulsive movement. "What?" he snapped.

"When Voldemort killed my father, he must have planned to use Dad's death to turn me into his Horcrux." Harry shook his head, righteous anger displacing some of his sadness and dread. "The final Horcrux of Slytherin's heir, buried in the dead skull of Gryffindor's last descendant, and made from death of Gryffindor's second-last descendant. How Voldemort must have congratulated himself for thinking of that! How could I ever been stupid enough to think that psychopath would have stooped to using a mere sword, a hat or piece of stone as a Horcrux, when he used and destroyed my entire family instead?" said Harry bitterly. He steeled himself and went on.

"But my mother stood in Voldemort's way. A mere Muggle-born, but she wouldn't let him kill me. So he killed her, and made this Horcrux with her death instead." Harry touched his scar and shivered, as though the hot cellar was cold. "A Horcrux made from my mother's selfless, loving sacrifice. No wonder, when Voldemort used Avada Kedavra on me afterwards, it backfired on him. No wonder he feels so much pain when he possesses me."

To Harry's astonishment, Snape stared at the floor, breathing hard, as though struggling to control his emotions.

"You dated my mother," said Harry, unable to keep the coldness out of his voice. "She loved you, but you cheated on her."

Snape looked up and, despite his rage, Harry flinched. Those black eyes were abysses of pain and loss. Snape spoke, in a voice as hollow as his eyes, "Lily Evans was, and remains, the most gifted, beautiful, intelligent and above all, the kindest woman I have ever met in my life. I count myself lucky that we were together for two years. They were the happiest two years of my life."

Harry choked.

"What is it?" snapped Snape.

"It's just that I've never heard you say a single, positive thing about my family before," said Harry.

"Your father was an arrogant bully, Potter." Harry opened his mouth to retaliate. "But your mother was absolute perfection."

Harry closed his mouth, wracked with conflicting emotions. He wanted to smash Snape to smithereens for insulting his father, even though intellectually, he knew Snape was quite right about him. But Harry loved his father. He couldn't stand by and let the greasy git insult him, any more than he'd let someone tell him Draco was boastful and spoiled.

At the same time, Harry desperately wanted to hear more about his mother. He'd never heard her little stories. No one had ever told him what she was like. He opened his mouth, not knowing what to say, but Snape was already speaking again.

"I met Lily Evans at the Slug Club, on our very first trip on the Hogwart's Express. Slughorn found me on the train and invited me because of my mother's gift with Potions and Gobstones. He invited Lily, when he found every cushion in her compartment tap dancing down the corridor and Lily trying desperately to round them up. He'd never seen an untrained witch manage such a powerful Dancing Charm."

Despite the fact it was Snape speaking, Harry's lips twitched. He stared at his ex-teacher and wondered how many people he had spoken to about Lily. Very few, he guessed. No wonder the floodgates were opening now.

"Lily and I became best friends. We sat together in Potions, visited each other's homes. She was so funny, no one could fail to fall in love with her."

"I remember Slughorn saying that," said Harry.

"But Voldemort decided I should be groomed for the Death Eaters," Snape's eyes, which had been misty with reminiscence, suddenly grew hard, and his voice dripped with self-recrimination. "Suddenly, I gained a group of new 'friends'. All of them with hardline views against Muggles and Muggle-born. They tried to drive a wedge between Lily and I, but they only succeeded when one of them drugged me with Love Potion and made Lily think I was cheating on her. I was disgusted with Lily for being so easily driven away and, when James Potter started torturing me that day you saw in my memory, flipping me over with Levicorpus and washing my mouth out-"

"What memory was that, Professor Snape?" asked Hermione nervously.

Snape blinked. "You didn't tell them about my worst memory you saw in the Pensieve, Potter?"

"Of course not," said Harry. "I promised not to tell."

Snape stared at him with disbelief. "Your father never kept a promise in his life." Harry bristled. "But your mother was utterly trustworthy." Harry subsided slightly and Snape continued. "That day, Lily came to my rescue and I called her a ... Mudblood."

Harry heard Ron and Hermione's sharp intakes of breath.

The tinge of colour in Snape's cheeks suggested he was thoroughly ashamed of himself. "I was embarrassed at having a girl rescue me in public. Particularly a girl who had doubted me, and one my new so-called friends despised. After that day, Lily never said another word to me," Snape finished. Was it Harry's imagination, or were Snape's eyes damp?

Harry considered what he'd just heard. It made sense. He'd wondered why a man, who'd been a Death Eater and lived through Voldemort's worst excesses, could possibly have considered a school taunting to be the worst of his memories. But what if Snape had been in love with Lily, and that memory had been the moment he'd managed to drive her away for good, with a few ill-chosen words, into his enemy's arms? The only woman he'd ever loved? Now THAT was a worst memory.

"Do you have any idea what the last few years have been like?" breathed Snape, his face contorted with hatred. "Every Potions class, you'd be there, looking and acting just like your father, with your mother's eyes. Mocking me. You should have been MY son! Your mother deserved better than James Potter! She would have divorced him in a few years, if Voldemort hadn't murdered her. I know it! I would have loved her until the day she died. I still do."

Draco's warm arms around his chest reminded Harry how close he'd come to losing his own love of his life. Compassion, and the Occlumency Draco had taught him allowed Harry to turn twinkling eyes towards Snape, instead of hate filled ones.

"My father DID love my mother until the day he died. He died trying to protect her and me," Harry stated quietly.

Snape had clearly prepared himself for a screaming match. He looked uncertain at Harry's calm reply.

"My mother must have really have been an amazing person to have been so loved," added Harry.

"She was," breathed Snape.

"But you betrayed her. It's your fault she's dead. You overheard half of the prophecy, before Aberforth kicked you out. Then you went and told Voldemort, and he went after my family." Anger slipped into Harry's voice, though his eyes remained shielded.

Snape winced, as though stabbed through the heart with his own guilt.

"Prophecy?" asked Draco. "The prophecy that my father failed to retrieve?"

"Yes," said Harry. "The prophecy about the Chosen One, made by Trelawney."

"That old fraud?" Draco was scandalized.

"She's not a fraud all the time," said Harry. "Very rarely, she goes into a trance, and starts speaking in a weird, deep voice. When that happens, her prophecy is true. But she doesn't remember what she's said afterwards."

Doubt was written all over Draco's face. "So when did she make this prophecy?"

"1980, in the Hog's Head," said Harry. He wondered at the way he'd struggled so hard to keep the prophecy from the older Malfoy, when he loved and trusted his son so much he was just giving the information away. "Trelawney told me Dumbledore was interviewing her for the position of Divination Professor, when she went into a trance in front of him. When she woke up after making the prophecy, Snape was there at the door, making excuses." Harry noticed Hermione was listening in. Had he told her this complete story before? "Then Aberforth threw Snape out-"

"Dumbledore's brother doesn't like Death Eaters. I know that from personal experience," said Draco ruefully.

Harry nodded. "Snape went straight to Voldemort, and told him the first half of the prophecy, which was all he'd managed to overhear." There was only a touch of accusation in his voice. Harry felt proud of his Occlumency skills.

But the white-blond Slytherin was looking puzzled. "All of the prophecy, Harry."

"No, he only heard half."

"ALL of it," Draco insisted. "You told me Trelawney loses consciousness when making her prophecies."

"She does."

"So if she made her prophecy, woke up, and Snape was still there, he must have heard ALL of it."

Harry froze. Draco was right. Why hadn't he thought of that before? Here was incontrovertible evidence that Snape hadn't been loyal to Voldemort.

Snape was smiling. "Trust a Slytherin to be more cunning than three Gryffindors," he said proudly.

"B-But you only told Voldemort half the prophecy. The first half," Harry spluttered. "Dumbledore told me."

"I DID only tell Voldemort the first half. But if Dumbledore told you I only HEARD the first half, he lied."

Opening and closing his mouth in shock, Harry said, "How dare you? Albus Dumbledore was not a liar!"

Snape sneered. "Of course he wasn't! But he was the smartest wizard I have ever had the honour of knowing, and he knew what it was safe for people to know. The enemy reads minds! How could Dumbledore possibly have told a boy, who at that time, had a mind that leaked like a sieve and a direct mental connection to Voldemort, the news that I had listened to the entire prophecy Voldemort was so desperate to hear?"

"Were you working for Dumbledore when you overheard the prophecy?" asked Draco.

"I was not." Snape looked ill at ease. "I thought he'd murdered my mother. But I had grave doubts about Voldemort's cause by then, and a strong intuition of whom the prophecy was about. I only told the first, most innocuous half, or so I thought, to Voldemort. I didn't care at the time, if the half prophecy sent him chasing after some random stranger. But I should have told him nothing." Snape started to pace, his robes billowing. "Two children were born at the end of July, one to the Longbottoms, one to the Potters. Voldemort decided that the one born to the descendant of Gryffindor must be the child of the prophecy. My abysmally stupid, criminally loose tongue drove Voldemort after the Potters!"

"Dumbledore told me that you considered telling half the prophecy to Voldemort, to be the single biggest regret of your life," said Harry. He hadn't believed it before. Now he did.

Snape whirled around to face Harry. "I wouldn't have harmed Lily for the world! Even if she never broke up with Potter, even if I never spoke to her again, I wanted her to be happy and safe! I was with Voldemort, when he heard of your birth and started scheming aloud about the ways he would track down the Potters and slaughter them. And the Longbottoms too, to be on the safe side. I listened, then I went straight to Dumbledore to give myself up and tell him everything I knew. He listened, and then he wanted to see my Patronus. My Patronus had been a black panther, but after that day..." Snape's eyes softened. "It looked like Lily Potter."

"So Dumbledore knew you had truly changed sides." Harry had wondered if Dumbledore had made Snape take an Unbreakable Vow of loyalty. But though the old wizard could be cunning, Harry realised now that breaking someone's will with an Unbreakable Vow, was Umbridge's style, not Dumbledore's. Patronuses were incontrovertible evidence of loyalty and caused no harm.

"Dumbledore made sure he wasn't the only one who knew my loyalties had changed," said Snape, the hint of a smile on his face. "He took me to visit my mother. I'd thought he'd killed her, but there she was, alive and well, working as the Hogwarts Librarian and engaged to be married to the caretaker. She hadn't dared to tell me she was still alive. For all she knew, I might have killed her for leaving the Death Eaters. It wouldn't have been the first time Voldemort turned family members against each other."

"Yes," said Harry. "Sirius Black was murdered by his own cousin, Bellatrix, who also murdered her own sister." He snuggled closer to Draco.

"I'd never seen my mother so happy. That was when my Patronus changed again, and Dumbledore appeared next to Lily." Snape glanced at the serene faces of his Patronus.

"No wonder Dumbledore trusted you," said Harry quietly.

"Everything changed for me that day, the 31st of July 1980. I changed my allegiances and friends, where I lived, and what I did for a living, because Dumbledore offered me a job. It was a new life."

"So when you told Dumbledore my family was in danger, what did he do?" asked Harry.

"Dumbledore took immediate steps to protect the Longbottoms and the Potters, those who had defied Voldemort three times and were expecting babies."

"Only three times? Harry's defied Voldemort more than that, and I bet you have too, Severus!" said Draco.

"Hundreds of times." Snape looked pleased with himself.

Harry laughed. "Yes, defying Voldemort's not so rare anymore. You've done it twice yourself, Draco."

"It will be three times tonight!" said Draco fiercely.

"And Dumbledore defied Voldemort three times: once when Voldemort was eleven, and still called himself Tom Marvolo Riddle, the second time when he turned him down for the Defence Against the Dark Arts job, and the third time in the Ministry of Magic, when they fought," said Harry.

"If I may continue?" Snape looked peevish, and Harry subsided. "I'd told Dumbledore exactly what Voldemort was planning. Both families went into hiding. Dumbledore put the Longbottoms under the Fidelius Charm, with himself as the Secret Keeper, and he wanted to do the same for the Potters." Snape's already sallow skin paled further. "But that was where things started to go wrong. Your father went against Dumbledore's wishes, and said he was going to use his best friend, Sirius Black. Then, at the last minute, he switched to that cringing bit of filth, with a mind even more unprotected than yours used to be, Potter - Wormtail. Wormtail didn't even have to TELL Voldemort the location of the Potters. Voldemort read it in his pathetic little mind. The broken Fidelius Charm had been going less than a week, when Voldemort went to Godric's Hollow and..." Snape stopped speaking. He looked away, head bowed.

There was silence for a while. Then Harry said, "But the Longbottoms were tortured into insanity. How did that happen if they were under a Fidelius Charm?"

"They asked Dumbledore to take it off," answered Snape turning back around. His cheeks were wet. "Months had passed and they thought they were safe. They were very skilled Aurors and keen to get back to work, chasing the last of the Death Eaters. But they were months out of practice. The Death Eaters caught them instead. Bellatrix had some deranged idea that they knew where Voldemort had gone, and tortured them until their minds broke."

There was silence again. Then Harry spoke.

"Dumbledore told me that the half prophecy sowed the seeds of Voldemort's destruction. Because he'd only heard the first part, about the time I was born, he came after me and gave me the scar, that marked me as his equal. Marked me as the Chosen One, who would destroy him."

"You are not the Chosen One," said Snape, in a voice of absolute certainty.

Draco blinked. "How can you say that?" Ron and Hermione looked aghast.

"The sign of the Chosen One, is that he has been marked as Voldemort's equal. That's what the second half of the prophecy states," said Snape.

"Harry's scar is that mark-" Draco began.

"So Dumbledore thought," interrupted Snape. "But now we know for sure - that scar is a Horcrux. Voldemort intended Potter to be a mere skull, sitting in his trophy cabinet. The scar doesn't mark Potter as Voldemort's equal, it marks him as his victim!"

Snape's words made perfect sense to Harry, and they made his duty clear. He didn't have to keep himself alive at all costs any more, so he could vanquish Voldemort. "So who is the real Chosen One?" he asked, with a calmness he didn't feel. "Is it Neville Longbottom?"

"Neville Longbottom? The Chosen One?" sniggered Draco, as though the very idea were ludicrous. "Not exactly hero material, is he?"

Even Ron chuckled a bit. Hermione looked irritated.

Harry frowned at Draco and Ron and they shut up. "I can send my Patronus to Neville and tell him to be at Hogwarts at midnight. The real Chosen One must be there, so Voldemort can be vanquished."

"That will not be necessary," said Snape briskly. "It is the nature of prophesy, that the true Chosen One will make his presence known, at the time he is needed."

"You mean, if we need Neville Longbottom, he will be there?"

Snape curled his lip in disgust. "If we need him."

"So Voldemort will still be vanquished tonight, even if you kill me to destroy the Horcrux," stated Harry baldly.

Snape gave a great start.

"Harry!" cried Draco, shocked. Ron groaned.

"That's not what I meant at all, Potter!" snapped Snape. "We must find a way of removing the Horcrux that won't kill you. Your mother would never have forgiven me if I let you die."

"Would surgery work?" ventured Draco. "Harry could go to St Mungo's."

"No," said Snape. "The scar isn't completely physical. It's a soul connection. The Horcrux must be pulled out, by Dementor."

"But that would trigger the protective spells V-Voldemort has put into Harry, and kill him," said Hermione.

"I know," said Snape. He started to pace relentlessly.

"I'm not afraid," said Harry. And, strangely, he wasn't. His purpose was clear. It was as if everything he'd ever said and done had been leading to this moment.

"Harry, no," said Draco.

"Can we ... defuse ... the protective spells?" asked Ron.

"No," said Snape, turning around. "I have already studied this. They have two default states, activated and burning, or not activated. They cannot be defused. That was why Dumbledore thought it best to destroy the ring immediately and face the consequences."

"If I have to make a sacrifice, then that's the way it is. Voldemort MUST be made mortal, so the Chosen One, whoever they are, can vanquish him," said Harry.

"Don't be such a brave Gryffindor, Potter. It's painful to my ears," sneered Snape. "And don't jump to the conclusion removing your Horcrux will kill you. I've never removed a Horcrux from a living, or once living, creature before. Perhaps Voldemort didn't use any protections for Nagini or you?"

Draco exhaled loudly in relief. "Merlin! I hope so!"

"Let's find out," said Ron.

Snape nodded. "Stand in the corner, while I summon a Dementor," he ordered. He waved his wand and once again, a cold and clammy chill broke through the heat of the cellar. Harry heard the faint screams of his parents. Draco shuddered, as though he were witnessing his mother's death again, and the Dementor flew into the room.

This time, Harry didn't recognise the withered face.

At once, Snape's Patronus seized the Dementor. "Eat that," Snape ordered the undead creature, irritably pointing at the dead snake.

The Dementor didn't need to be told twice. It picked up Nagini in its gooey, rotten hands, and raised her to its mouth.

Snape wove the barrier around himself and the quartet.

"Did you hear a sizzling sound?" asked Hermione nervously, in the sudden silence after the barrier dropped down. Her voice echoed.

No one answered her. They stared at the Dementor. Smoke had started to rise from its hands. As it consumed the last of the soul fragment, the Dementor disappeared, consumed in a firestorm.

"Oh..." faltered Hermione.

"Uh..." muttered Ron.

"Voldemort DID protect his living Horcruxes," said Harry resignedly. He hadn't expected anything less. Draco squeezed him and Harry stroked his sleek hair, trying to calm his trembling, but he realised it would take more than a last cuddle to make Draco happy now.

Snape didn't look at any of them, while he dissolved the barrier and gathered up what was left of the Dementor and Nagini. But Harry's friends gazed at each other in desperation. Harry thought they looked as though they were coming to a decision.

"We're not removing your Horcrux, Harry," stated Ron.

Snape gathered up the ashes, and put them into a Transfigured pot. He glanced at Harry and rolled his eyes.

"If Voldemort is killed tonight, and my Horcrux is intact, Voldemort will be able to return," said Harry angrily. "It might be next year, it might be fifty, but he'll be back."

"So we can live fifty years together in freedom," said Draco. "That's what I want."

"You don't understand. If we don't vanquish Voldemort tonight, thousands of innocent people may die in the future. Voldemort WILL return, more powerful than he is today. The longer it takes, the worse he's going to be."

Ron looked furious. "What ABOUT a thousand strangers? Why should we care? We don't know them!"

Hermione bit her lip and looked as though she was about to say something. But she didn't.

"Why should we care about thousands of people, who MIGHT die, when we know we can save the one person we love, who we know WILL die?" cried Draco.

"Dumbledore once thought as you do," said Harry sadly. But his friends weren't listening.

Draco glanced at Ron and Hermione. "Are you with me?" he asked.

"Yes!" exclaimed Ron, and Hermione looked guilty, then nodded.

"We won't let you commit suicide, like a stupid Gryffindor, Harry. You're staying alive, like the Slytherin you nearly were!" cried Draco.

"Slytherin?" asked Snape.

"Yes, Severus. The Sorting Hat wanted to put Harry into Slytherin. But he refused to go."

"Because all the selfish, self-centred, evil people were only in Slytherin," said Harry, with a significant wink at Snape.

"Of course! Never in Gryffindor," said Snape sarcastically, turning his withering, dark gaze onto Ron and Hermione. They returned his gaze for only a few seconds before they looked away in shame.

"This isn't fair!" Draco's voice brimmed with heartbroken petulance. "Just when we thought we were safe, and the Vow was gone, we discover your Horcrux." He grabbed possessively at Harry. "I won't let you make a martyr of yourself now! I refuse to allow it! You're mine! I don't care about Voldemort coming back!"

"But you're not safe," said Snape silkily. "I'm sorry if you got that impression. Yes, the Vow has faded, now it has detected you're in love. But the Vow is permanent, and love sadly ephemeral. Particularly teenage love." He sighed dramatically. "What's the divorce rate on teenage marriages? Half? More than half? When you stop loving Harry, Draco, when you grow and change, when he finally gets on your nerves too many times, and you can't stand him any longer, then the Vow will start to function again. I give you both about a year. Five at the most."

"What happens if I die?" asked Harry.

"Don't say that!" cried Draco.

"With the master dead, the Vow would truly cease to exist."

"No!" Draco yelled.

Harry made his decision. Staring hard into Snape's eyes, he said: "All right, Draco. You've changed my mind. We WON'T remove my Horcrux."

Draco, Ron and Hermione sagged in relief.

"I love you, Harry. I'm so glad you've seen reason," said Draco, kissing Harry all over his face. Harry kissed him back.

"I love you, Draco too. Never forget that."

"You can remind me every day."

Harry's smile was tight. He moved to Hermione and Ron. "I'm sorry. You really are the best friends I ever could have had," he said, hugging one after the other.

"Harry, why are you acting like you're saying goodbye?" asked Hermione. Harry had his chin on her shoulder, as he hugged her, and he stared hard into Snape's eyes.

"Goodbye? Why would I be saying goodbye?" Harry let go of Hermione and Draco ran thankfully back into his arms.

"I'm glad you've seen reason," said Draco.

Harry reached over to kiss Draco. As their lips touched, and Draco closed his eyes, Harry surreptitiously brought his wand up to his boyfriend's head, and thought Stupefy!

Draco went limp in his arms. Holding him up with his left arm, Harry pointed his wand at Hermione, and thought the word again.

Even as Harry was stunning Hermione, Snape brought out his wand, stunned Ron and caught both him and Hermione in a spell, which gently lay them down on the floor together. Harry gave Draco a last kiss on his closed eyelids, and laid him down, next to Ron and Hermione.

"My, my, Potter. You don't do anything by halves, do you? Asking me secretly with your eyes, to help you stun your loved ones, so they'd be unable to stop you getting your Horcrux removed. The Sorting Hat was right. You really are cunning enough to have been in Slytherin."

"How would you have liked having me in your house?" Harry couldn't help asking Snape.

The ex-Head of Slytherin didn't reply right away. Then his lips twitched. "We would have won every single House Cup!"

"Is winning all you ambitious Slytherins think about?" asked Harry, amused but aghast.

Snape gave the ceiling a comical look, as though thinking hard. "No! We occasionally think of losing, but only in the context of avoiding it," he said at length. Then his face became serious. "My ambition is Voldemort's destruction. Do you dare tell me all ambition is bad, Potter?"

Shaking his head and grinning, Harry said, "No, Snape. And please call me Harry."

Snape looked shaken. "Very well. And you can call me Severus. I think you've earned the right, one last time, Harry."

"Promise me you'll look after my friends. Stop Draco having one of his tantrums, when he wakes up. This had to be done," said Harry. Now that everything was nearly over, he felt quite light and cheerful. He lay down on the floor. "I'm ready. Summon a Dementor." He grinned. "If you've got any left!"

"Plenty left, Harry," said Snape sadly.

Staring at the melted ceiling, Harry said, "While you were teaching me, I never thought you'd have your own reasons for behaving the way you did. I always thought of you as a bad guy, but I don't any more. The more I learn about the world, the more I realise it's not black and white, it's complex shades of grey."

"That understanding is called 'maturity', Harry, and I'm overjoyed that you may be experiencing it at last." Snape's voice shook. "At last..."

"I'll tell my mother you love her. That is, if I'm not with my father in hell." From the floor, Harry winked.

"Hell is a bit extreme for James Potter, Harry. Purgatory with one or two demons, perhaps."

A chill came over the room. The shadowy figure of the new Dementor loomed over Harry's head. Snape hurried over to Harry's unconscious friends and wove the barrier. "Goodbye, Harry, and thank you for introducing me to an entirely new feeling."

"What's that?"

"Being actually sorry to see you go!"

The barrier slid into place before Harry could speak. Snape had got the last word.

Now it was just Harry and the Dementor...

...and Snape's Patronus, grasping the Dementor's arms. Harry stared up at the two shining, loving faces above him. It was comforting to know Dumbledore and Lily Potter would go on, at least in some form.

Straining against the grip of the Patronus, the Dementor leaned in.

The hideous, shrivelled face with the sucking mouth, loomed large in Harry's vision. He willed himself to stay still. He could hear his mother screaming. It contrasted strangely with her serene face above him. He knew he'd be seeing his real mother soon...

Cold lips, like a fish, like a corpse, pressed against Harry's forehead, and he felt a pain beyond anything he'd ever known. His very soul was being pulled out by the roots. Though he fought to stay conscious, the pain was too much to bear.

Harry's mind was sucked into a whirling vortex of darkness...

oOoOoOo

_**Author's Notes:** Oh my God! I killed Harry! (You bastard! ;-)_

_ He wasn't the Chosen One, so no one will miss him. (Why are you throwing things at me? ;-)_

_ Okay, MAYBE, just maybe he'll survive, but I've got to work out how. Please encourage me with reviews! Or if you DON'T want Harry to survive, please review and tell me. ;-)_

_**Replies to reviews:**_

_ Thank you to the following people for reviewing: RavenclawBest, rekahneko, Kira May Maxwell, Emu Alive and Kicking, chinadoll27, Orgainoid, NinjaoftheDarkness, ThePotionsMiss, piuk, emeraud.silver, Yellowwolf, Kittendragon, black dilemma, keske, LunaSky, shadowama, dracoizumi, Crowley Black, StunningSpellRocks2345, Riku-Rocks, Gryffindorgrl86, MikoGoddess, bellajen94, Shadow, Anissina June, ExhaleDreams, 6tigercubs, telleo, GreenEyedCatDragon, Your Mom Is My Heart., lonley.hopelessly-romantic, fragonknight01, CatWriter, Royari, Secret Slashyness, SoraIsRikus, Moyima, Muchacha, txcalbud, ProperT, GenX-Revolution, Black Mirror, Yueli, draconian snowangel216, Potter's Wifey, MaisaG, Ardent Affair, thrnbrooke, inu-youkai 911, HecateDeMort, and dynonugget. _

_ AmaranthineAnathema: Some Butterbeer would be lovely! Thank you and thank you for your review! ;-) I adore Snape too, and Alan Rickman's portrayal of Snape is glorious. Umbridge, Barnes and Voldemort will die horribly in this fanfic, I promise. The movie doesn't violate the Law of Morpheus. McGonagall would only have taught such Transfigurations that were reversible. Anything else would have been Dark. (Which would explain why the Transfigurations were so useless. Why would you want to Transfigure an animal into a water goblet? Unless it was one of the few Transfigurations that could be reversed.) I agree Harry simply has to be the Gryffindor Horcrux. The prophecy states the one cannot live if the other survives. To me, that means Harry has to get rid of his scar (the part of Voldemort that survives inside him) to completely kill off Voldemort. Whether that will mean Harry's death in the Deathly Hallows is up to Rowling. But I suspect he won't die - in the canon. There are so many 'in the know' sources predicting Harry's death and building up the tension (even Jim Dale who does the US audio books) that if Harry does die, it will be an anticlimax. Also they're building a Harry Potter theme park. I can't see a multimillion-dollar theme park idea getting off the ground, if they hadn't known Harry was going to survive. Can you imagine what the guides would have to say to little children if he dies? "And here's Hogsmeade, but don't bother looking for Harry because he's DEAD." But, that's all second-guessing Rowling at this point, and doesn't apply here. This fanfic is another matter! Bwahahahaha! Wait for the next chapter! He's not the Chosen One, so they don't NEED him. ;-)_

_ Fmh: Okay, so canon Hermione hates flying and horses. You're completely right. Um ... well, excuses time. ;-) Everyone hates flying on Buckbeak. His wings try to tip you off when they flap. And Hermione hasn't had much experience in flying a broom. Not a very physical person, is Hermione and she was raised by Muggles. Um, Hermione might have just been saying that to Lavender to shut her up. She doesn't like her much. I'm grasping at straws to stay canon here! A rewrite may be in order! ;-)_

_ Cara: Was I implying Snape/Dumbledore with his Patronus? No. There's such thing as platonic love. And frankly, could you see Dumbledore being capable of shagging? He was over one hundred and fifty. Certain parts of the body do wear out quicker than others! ;-) _


	35. The Final Battle

_**Author Note: **The Bodyguard has just won Quill to Parchment Best Trio Era runner up fanfic. Thank you to everyone who voted!_

oOoOoOo

**The Bodyguard**

** Chapter 35: The Final Battle**

Draco opened his eyes and stared up at the soot-stained ceiling. The warm, stone floor pressed against his back. His head hurt.

"Harry?" he muttered. The last thing remembered was kissing the Gryffindor, because he'd decided not to remove his Horcrux.

Smoke tickled Draco's nostrils.

He snapped into horrified wakefulness. Hermione and Ron were lying, stirring and muttering, but not fully conscious, by his side. But where was Harry?

The Slytherin sat up so fast that the world tilted around him and he nearly blacked out again. His head stabbed with pain and his eyes blurred. He could just make out the tall, thin figure of Snape, his robes rippling as he sent a vortex around the room, to pick up the smoke and ashes that heralded the destruction of a Dementor.

Snape looked down at him solemnly. "It's done," he said.

oOoOoOo

Harry didn't know where he was, but he wasn't alone.

Under blue skies, away from the river's edge, where the willows waved but didn't womp, he ran with a stick in his hand, playing with a black dog, as big as a bear. He waved the stick near the dog's muzzle, and the dog snapped and barked excitedly.

They ran past a picnic blanket, where a red-haired woman, and man with messy black hair leaned casually on their stomachs, watching them and smiling, and a white-haired wizard, humming like a bumblebee, his magnificent robes brushing the dewy grass, winked cheerfully at them.

But Harry wasn't entirely happy. As he puzzled over what was missing, a change came over the day.

Dark clouds swept over the sky, blocking out the light. A warm rain started to fall. Strong winds buffeted and shook him. He ran for the tree, where the picnic blanket lay, and took refuge in the deepening twilight, but the rain grew heavier.

He pressed up against the trunk. The raindrops trickled down his face, and into his mouth...

...they tasted salty.

An ache started in his head. He realised he was lying down, not standing up, and it was dark.

But the gale still buffeted his shoulders and roared in his ears. It sounded like words...

"Harry, please wake up!"

"He's breathing. The Dementor can't have taken his soul."

"Kissed bodies still breath."

"Oh no!"

"This is all your fault, Severus! I'll kill you!"

"You and who's army?"

"I hate you! Just you wait! Harry, wake up! How could you do this to me?"

Harry's forehead ached and burned. Someone was gripping his shoulders and shaking him. He wanted them to stop. He didn't want the ones he loved to be unhappy. Painfully, he cracked open his eyes.

Draco's face, brick red with emotion, hovered above his own. Their eyes met and Draco's eyes widened.

"Harry, speak to me! Are you in there?" Tears dripped off his face, and into Harry's mouth.

"Draco?" Harry couldn't recognise his own voice. His throat felt full of sandpaper, and he could taste smoke.

But Draco's face lit up in ecstasy, as though that croaked name was the best sound he'd ever heard "You're alive! The Dementor didn't suck out your soul!" He flung his arms around Harry.

Weakly, Harry raised a hand and patted Draco's back. He tried to say, 'I love you', but it came out as a wheeze.

Draco looked him urgently in the face. "How do you feel?" he demanded.

"Okay," Harry lied valiantly.

"Rubbish!" snapped Hermione, crouching down. Like Draco, her face was flushed with crying.

"Tell us the truth, so we know how to fix you," said Ron, crouching down too. His face was stricken with grief and fury.

Harry winced under their glare. "My throat's closing up, and I feel like I've had a tooth pulled, without anaesthetic," he croaked. "But not out of my jaw. Out of my head." His hand went up his forehead and came away bloody.

"Your scar has broken open," said Snape. "You may also have breathed some of the hot smoke, when I destroyed the Dementor." He crouched down gracefully beside Harry and pointed his wand.

Harry saw several spells flash, and to his relief, the pain in his head and throat vanished. Even his forehead no longer felt warm and sticky. "Thank you. That's much better."

"You're thanking him? He set a Dementor on you!" cried Draco.

"We woke up, and found you lying there, covered in blood and unconscious. You wouldn't wake up, Harry. Not even Enervate worked!" Hermione wiped her eyes.

"I wanted to take you to St Mungo's right away, but Severus forced us to wait and see if you'd wake up naturally." Draco glared at his ex-teacher. "We've been waiting a full FIVE MINUTES!"

Snape rolled his eyes.

"Five minutes? Is that all?" Harry was amused. His friends and boyfriend were reacting as if he'd been in a coma for days.

"It felt like years," said Draco. He glared furiously at Snape. "This is all your fault!"

"Don't blame Severus," said Harry. "It was my idea. I used Legilimency and asked him for help stunning all of you, so I could get my Horcrux removed."

The others looked shocked, and not only because Harry had used Snape's first name.

"It was YOUR idea to stun us, Harry?" asked Draco. There was a dangerous growl to his voice, like the first rumble before a volcanic eruption.

"I'm afraid Harry is correct. Even six years in Gryffindor House couldn't stamp out his natural Slytherin tendencies. What a pity I didn't get a chance to take you in hand earlier, Harry. I might have made something of you," Snape said dryly.

Harry groaned.

"There is one more test I must make before I'm satisfied your Horcrux is gone. Can you speak in Parselmouth, Harry?" Snape asked.

"I'll need to see a snake-"

"Serpensortia!" said Snape immediately, and a tiny, black snake appeared and coiled over his hand.

Harry knew immediately something had changed. Whenever he'd seen a snake before, even a picture, he'd felt a discernable click, as though gears were shifting in his head. But not now. He tried to greet the snake in Parselmouth. "Uh, hullo?"

"That was English," said Snape.

"Hullo snake?" Harry tried again. The snake didn't respond.

"Still English," said Snape. "That will do." He made the snake vanish. "You can no longer speak in Parselmouth, Harry. Voldemort's soul has truly left you."

Harry found he wasn't entirely glad. "I'm going to miss chatting to snakes at the zoo," he said.

"But Voldemort will miss his soul fragment more," said Snape smoothly. He eyed Harry. "Can you sit up now?"

Harry did. He looked down at his body, hunting for dead, withered areas, like Dumbledore's hand. But he couldn't find any. "That's strange. I didn't burn. Why didn't I burn? All the other Horcruxes did." He looked up at Snape. "Did you stop the burning spell?"

"There WAS no burning spell. I suspect Voldemort intended to implant one after he'd killed you. But after his Killing Curse backfired, he was incapable of further magic."

"Wonderful!" said Harry joyfully, and got to his feet. The rest of the quartet stood up around him. He grabbed Draco's shoulder for support, but then caught sight of his face and froze. Draco had never looked angrier. Even Hermione and Ron looked furious.

"Is Harry cured?" Draco asked Snape coldly, not taking his pale eyes off his boyfriend.

Snape gave a curt nod.

"Absolutely sure?" Draco's eyes narrowed into slits.

"I'm fine," said Harry.

Draco's face suddenly became stormy and he yelled at the top of his voice. "WELL, WE'RE NOT FINE! YOU BASTARD! HOW COULD YOU DO THAT TO US? WE'VE BEEN WORRIED SICK!"

Harry took a step backwards. "Sorry."

"USING STUPEFY WHILE I WAS KISSING YOU! HOW DARE YOU TAKE ADVANTAGE OF ME LIKE THAT?"

"You lied to us, Harry!" shouted Ron.

"You might have died having that Horcrux removed! You might have suffered brain damage!" shouted Hermione.

"HOW WOULD WE TELL IF HE HAD BRAIN DAMAGE? STUPID, NOBLE BLOODY GRYFFINDOR!" Draco yelled.

"A Gryffindor with Slytherin tendencies," Snape pointed out silkily. He seemed vastly amused by the shouting. "Your friends actually tried to attack me, just now, when they thought I'd killed you, Harry."

"But we couldn't even get near him," said Ron.

"So it's HARRY now, is it?" Draco snarled at Snape.

Snape smirked. "It IS a change, isn't it? But I'm far more inclined to be friendly to someone who should have been in my House. A Slytherin Gryffindor, so to speak."

"But that's even worse than a plain Gryffindor!" Draco spluttered. "Harry's not only stupidly brave and noble but he's SNEAKY about it."

"I had to get rid of that Horcrux," said Harry. "Sorry, I scared you but it had to be done."

"HAD to be done, did it?" sneered Draco. "Is that so? YOU BASTARD! You overly heroic, smart-arsed, two-faced, tricky BASTARD!"

Harry grabbed him and silenced him with a kiss. When he broke the kiss, Draco's eyes were closed and he was breathless.

"That shut him up," said Snape to Harry. "Nearly as effectively as the magic word."

"You mean sorry?" asked Harry. "Hermione's already told me that one."

Snape smirked. "No, Silencio! Far more effective than sorry!"

Harry laughed.

"You wouldn't dare use Silencio on me!" said Draco, opening his eyes.

Snape raised his wand and Harry hastily put himself in front of his boyfriend. "Enough! Please! Let's put it all behind us now."

"It IS behind us." Snape stared at Harry's forehead. Harry had never seen him look happier. "Your scar has completely gone, Harry. Do you know what this means?"

Harry raised a hand to his forehead again, but his fingers trailed over smooth, clean skin. He grinned. "It means Voldemort is mortal, thanks to you!" Snape beamed at the thanks, and Harry had an urge to keep going. "Congratulations, Severus, and thank you! This is your victory. Using Dementors to destroy the Horcruxes was a work of genius."

Snape looked even happier; so happy that Harry guessed he rarely heard thanks or congratulations. It occurred to Harry that there was something else Snape hadn't heard.

"Did you know my Aunt Petunia never told my mother of your visit, to apologize and explain about the Love Potion?"

Snape froze. His face fell, and he seemed incapable of speech for a moment, then he said huskily, "No. I thought Lily had chosen not to have anything more to do with me."

"She didn't know," said Harry.

Turning away abruptly, Snape said, "I see..."

Harry didn't know what to say. He wondered what would have happened, if his mother had been given the choice of Snape or his father. Would he be standing here today?

There was silence for a while.

Then Ron spoke. "Mortal..." he appeared to be tasting the word. "So we've won then."

"Not quite," said Snape delicately, turning back around, his eyes now shielded with Occlumency. Harry didn't begrudge him that. "There is the fact that Voldemort is still the most powerful dueller alive. Coupled with the fact he is at Hogwarts now, surrounded by all five hundred of his Death Eaters."

"Hagrid will fight them!" Hermione clapped her hand to her mouth. "He'll be killed!"

"Hagrid is not at Hogwarts," said Snape.

"We saw him there, just a few hours ago," said Ron.

"I made sure he received an urgent message to visit his brother in the Forbidden Forest at seven o'clock. That will keep him away for hours," Snape explained. "I also told my mother and step-father to flee. Headmaster McGonagall is visiting relatives on Skye, and it's summer, so there are no other teachers present, and no students."

"What about the house elves?" asked Hermione.

"All hundred and ten of them are at Hogwarts. They wouldn't have missed this for the world."

"How can you joke about house elves being in danger?" said Hermione. But Snape ignored her.

"What about the hostages from the Ministry of Magic, and St Mungo's?" asked Harry.

"I tried to talk Voldemort out of that side of his plan. But, at least, the point of hostages is that they will be kept alive. As long as they don't cause trouble."

Harry bristled. "Even if I'm not the Chosen One, we've got to go to Hogwarts and stop Voldemort," he said.

"Indeed," said Snape.

"We can fit under my cloak. But Voldemort can see through cloaks."

Snape sighed. "Allow me to provide a disguise that he hasn't managed to see through yet."

"What disguise is that?" Harry's interest was piqued.

"I am the Dementor Master. Over the years, I've been expected to subject hundreds of Muggles to the Dementor's Kiss. But what I really do is this." His wand twitched, and Draco, Ron and Hermione gasped.

"What? What is it?" Harry asked. He was fighting off a strong impulse to stare blankly into space, but otherwise, he felt normal.

Draco said nothing, but conjured a mirror. Harry peered into it, and saw that his eyes appeared soulless, blank and dead.

"A simple Glamour on the eyes, and a mild sedative, to make the victim act soulless," said Snape. "Voldemort won't try to kill you, if he thinks you're already dead. He is aware I planned to lure all four of you to Malfoy Mansion and he will expect to see your Kissed Inferi. Except you, Harry. He wants you kept alive."

"He's not looking very alive at the moment," muttered Draco, looking ill.

"Tut, tut! I failed to follow Voldemort's orders to the letter," said Snape mockingly. "How remiss of me!" His eyes glittered. "I can't wait to see Voldemort's face when he sees I've destroyed one of his Horcruxes. By accident, of course! Push your hair off your forehead, Harry. I want Voldemort to be in no doubt at all that your Horcrux has gone."

"He'll kill you," said Hermione.

"Perhaps," said Snape. He seemed indifferent.

"We'll kill him first," said Harry fiercely. He paused, and felt some of his confidence drain away. "Or the Chosen One will. If he shows up. Even if we die tonight, at least Voldemort is mortal."

"Do not try anything," said Snape, his eyes flashing with sudden anger. "YEARS of planning will come to an end tonight. Voldemort is exactly where I want him. Keep quiet, look dead, and don't give me away!"

"If you think Harry will pass up a chance to act heroic tonight, you've lost your mind," muttered Draco.

oOoOoOo

They were able to Apparate right outside Hogwart's closed front doors.

"The wards are still working inside, but not outside. The castle is in the Dark Lord's hands," said Snape. He was wearing a white mask, along with his usual black robes. The castle grounds were deserted but anyone watching would have thought Snape was talking to himself, for his four companions resembled walking corpses.

Harry noted Snape's use of the term 'Dark Lord'. They were in enemy territory now. Subtly, he pointed at the turrets of the castle, where wisps of white smoke could still be seen.

"The sixth floor was on fire recently. Some abysmally foolish person must have given Hagrid Firewhiskey," murmured Snape, as if to himself.

Draco stared blankly ahead.

Snape's lips twitched. He placed a hand on either door and thrust them open.

A forest of heads turned. The Great Hall was fuller than Harry had ever seen it. The four House tables had been destroyed, to make way for throngs of black robed, white masked Death Eaters. They stood in lines, with a gap down the middle, looking towards the main table, at the top of the hall, where the teachers and headmaster should have been sitting.

High-ranking Death Eaters occupied the main table instead. One seat was unoccupied. In the headmaster's magnificent chair, sat Voldemort, his chalk-white face luminous, in the light of hundreds of floating candles, and the starry night sky overhead.

Harry inwardly seethed with righteous anger at seeing Voldemort where Dumbledore had been.

The hostages lay on one side of the main table. They were unconscious and Harry could see why. Barnes's corpse lay in front of the main table. He'd apparently attacked Voldemort and been killed. The rest of the hostages had been stunned to keep them quiet. Among them were Scrimgeour, and Umbridge. Harry guessed the Death Eaters had burst into a Wizengamot meeting and kidnapped the most important people in the British wizarding world. They'd even captured Rita Skeeter, who must have been there writing her usual lies.

To Harry's horror, he spotted the Weasley twins among the hostages. Why had they been at the Ministry or St Mungo's? He couldn't even ask them, let alone save them.

But Harry's heart leaped when he spotted Neville Longbottom and his formidable-looking Gran, lying slumped and unconscious with the rest of the hostages. So the most likely Chosen One was here?

"Good morning. I see you saved me a seat," announced Snape, striding towards the top of the hall, followed by the deathly quartet. His voice wasn't loud, but everyone in the hall heard him.

Voldemort's red eyes focused on Snape. "You're late," he said coldly.

Snape smirked. "Please accept my apologies, my Lord. I had business. As you can see." He gestured at the quartet.

"Is that Harry Potter? Dead?"

Harry didn't see who had spoken, and couldn't turn his head to look. But every single Death Eater seemed to be talking at once and craning their heads to look at him.

"Silence!" Voldemort shouted, and the noise subsided. He stood up, a crystal glass of red wine still in his hand. "Approach!"

Snape and the quartet approached the table. Harry could hear whispers of 'scar!' all around him.

"Yes," said Snape conversationally to the crowd. "It was most peculiar. That wilful Dementor consumed Potter's scar first, as thought it had a separate piece of soul inside!"

The crystal glass in Voldemort's hand exploded. Harry thought the pieces must have cut his hand, but the Dark wizard didn't seem to notice, so shocked he was at the loss of one of his Horcruxes.

The muttering in the room grew louder at Voldemort's reaction.

"It was all over before I could follow your orders and keep Potter alive, my Lord," said Snape lazily. They now stood in front of the main table, where Voldemort stood, speechless and dripping with wine. "I wonder, were we ordered not to kill Potter because of that strange scar?" Harry waited excitedly behind his Glamour for Voldemort's answer.

He wasn't the only one. Voldemort seemed quite aware that all eyes were on him. He licked his lips, as though his mouth had gone dry. Harry could practically see the wheels spinning in his head. Should he murder Snape for destroying the Horcrux? But if he drew any more attention to the importance of the scar, the throng of Death Eaters might guess it had been a Horcrux. Some of them were clearly on the cusp of guessing already, and that would put his other Horcruxes in danger.

With every appearance of being unconcerned, the Dark wizard shook his head. "No, of course not! I merely wanted Potter alive, so I could sacrifice him, in front of my Death Eaters, as he deserved. As an entertainment."

"My humblest apologies for taking that pleasure away from you, my Lord," said Snape, with a slight bow.

Standing close to Voldemort, Harry could see traces of the explosive rage he was barely holding back. Spasms wracked one side of his chalk-white face, and his teeth were bared. "You WILL be punished for disobeying my orders," said Voldemort, some of his rage leaking into his voice. "Go and guard the hostages. Wormtail can have take your seat on the main table."

With another slight bow, looking suitably remorseful, Snape walked towards the hostages. The quartet followed him.

Harry itched to Avada Kedavra Voldemort, but his friends and the hostages were nearby, and the five hundred Death Eaters would surely kill them all. Besides, what else had Snape planned?

A white glow appeared behind the main table, and the Hogwarts ghosts walked through the wall.

"Hogwarts was invaded once before, during the Norman Conquest. That's when I died," the Fat Friar was saying to Nearly Headless Nick.

"Such a terrible thing that it should be invaded again," said Nearly Headless Nick, surveying the throngs of Death Eaters in dismay.

"You take that back," snarled Bellatrix, from her seat at the main table. She raised her wand, but Nick regarded it with scorn.

"What are you going to do? Kill me?"

The ghosts chortled.

Peeves floated over their heads. A grin spread over his wicked face, as he caught sight of Voldemort. "Looky, looky! It's Tom Marvolo Riddle, the Head Boyo! Thinking he's the Headmaster now!"

Voldemort's temper was already close to snapping, thanks to seeing one of his Horcruxes destroyed. It would have taken much less than Peeves to send him over the edge. "SILENCE!" he roared.

But Peeves was delighted, not frightened. "Tom! Don't you like me calling you Tom, Tom?" Voldemort raised his wand and the poltergeist blew a loud raspberry.

There was an explosion, and Peeve's fat, little body flew out of sight like a cannonball. The ghosts gasped, and the Death Eaters laughed.

"Shocking way to carry on," said the Fat Friar.

Voldemort sneered in the direction Peeves had vanished. "I have removed Peeves from Hogwarts. Something even Dumbledore wasn't capable of," he gloated.

"He will return. Peeves is a spirit of mischief, and cannot be permanently removed from the school," said the Bloody Baron. His voice was deep and sepulchral, as though echoing from a deep and lonely tomb. Harry had never heard the Slytherin ghost speak before.

Voldemort glared at the Bloody Baron. "You doubt the abilities of your own descendant?"

The Bloody Baron gazed sorrowfully at Voldemort. "You are a descendant of Salazar Slytherin as am I. But you will be the last of our line."

"I need no descendants. I will never die!"

The Bloody Baron sighed. "Once, I too thought I could overcome death by magic-"

"You succeeded."

The Bloody Baron's fingers strayed to the copious amounts of silvery unicorn blood that stained his clothes. "I wish I had not. I have a half-life, a cursed life. I will live forever as a ghost! Tom-"

"Do NOT call me that!" snarled Voldemort.

But the Bloody Baron acted as if he hadn't heard. "Tom, you spent seven years at Hogwarts, in my House. Wasn't my miserable example enough to stop you craving eternal life, at any cost?"

"Your example only made me find other ways! Better ways! I am not like you, covered in the blood of unsuccessful experiments!"

The Bloody Baron stared at Voldemort as though he could see right through him; see everything about him. "Do not flatter yourself, Tom. You are bloodier than I."

Harry inwardly cheered.

Voldemort shook with rage. "I will exorcise the lot of you!" he screamed. "This castle is MINE! I shall clean it up! No more ghosts! No more Muggle-borns or squibs!" He stared up into the starry ceiling. "From the moment I set foot in Hogwarts, aged eleven, I knew it would be mind some day. Now it is. The greatest stronghold of ancient magic in the world - mine!"

Lightning flickered in the ceiling. Voldemort fired a blast from his wand straight up, and the lightning flickered out.

"You may love Hogwarts, Tom, but it's hardly requited. Hogwarts wants you dead!" said Nearly Headless Nick.

To Harry's surprise, the Death Eaters muttered fearfully.

"I did warn you, my Lord," said Bellatrix. "There are a thousand years of magical protections placed on this castle. Hogwarts will destroy us if it can."

"What of it? I am descended from Salazar Slytherin, one of the four founders. Hogwarts is mine by right!"

"Hogwarts doesn't belong to any one person, it belongs to the children of each generation in turn. Magic children. Muggle-borns, pure-bloods and all," said Nearly Headless Nick.

"But now it belongs to me! I am holding back Hogwart's defence system," said Voldemort. "All of it. Nothing in Hogwarts can harm us!"

But a new sound echoed through the hall - the high-pitched, malevolent tittering of over a hundred house elves. And a single, squeaky voice could be heard above the others. "Not quite ALL of Hogwart's defence system, Tom Marvolo Riddle, sir!"

Voldemort stared around. So did the crowd of Death Eaters. But no tiny creatures with pointed ears were visible.

"Good house elves can not be seen, sir," squeaked the voice.

"We are very good house elves, sir!" This voice was even higher than the first, a tiny, tremulous squeal.

"But these are not good wizards!" This squeaky voice was old and doddery and very, very angry. "Some of us still remember when you were a student here, sir. Tom Marvolo Riddle, Head Boy and Special Services Award to the School, but WE knew you, sir. We saw how you treated the ones you thought were the weakest, the most defenceless. You treated house elves like vermin, sir! You tricked most of the wizards into thinking you were good, but we weren't fooled, and neither were the smart wizards, sir!"

Behind her Glamour, Harry guessed Hermione was overjoyed.

"You ARE vermin!" shouted one of the Death Eater at the main table. Harry recognised the voice. It was Alecto Carrow. "Why should human wizards be scared of tiny half bloods? We could beat you like Bludgers!"

Her answer came in the form of a purple jet of light, which speared down from the rafters and struck her head. Alecto fell instantly unconscious, and heavy ropes appeared and wrapped around her, until she was little more than a rope cocoon.

Voldemort raised his wand. "Death Eaters! Kill the house elves!"

Immediately, the Great Hall was full of jets of light, aimed at the rafters. There was a small explosion, and the starry night illusion faded. But there were no house elves on the rafters.

"Where are they?" Harry heard someone shout. Then purple jets of light, and loud giggling, erupted from near the front doors. Even as the surviving Death Eaters wheeled around to retaliate, the giggles and jets of light starting coming from the other side of the hall, behind them.

Harry had seen a newly freed Dobby attack Lucius Malfoy and effortlessly knock him flying, so the next few minutes weren't as surprising to him as they were to everyone else. But even Harry was impressed. The house elves didn't need wands so they couldn't be disarmed. They were fast, tiny and impossible to hit. They could Apparate and Disapparate in the warded Great Hall, and they all attacked at once.

All but one.

"Mistress Bellatrix! Kreacher will guard you, sir!" The old house elf scuttled towards the main table. But another elf, that Harry recognised as Dobby, appeared and punched Kreacher in the head, knocking him unconscious.

"Dumb, mad old elf, sir," Harry heard Dobby mutter.

Bellatrix fought back. "Veritasformo!" she shouted, pointing her wand at Dobby. But the house elf clicked his fingers and vanished. The spell flew past where he had stood and vanished into the hostages.

Harry saw another familiar elf, this one wearing clothes.

"Winky's old master would be so happy to see his Winky now! Fighting bad, Dark wizards!" she hiccupped drunkenly, then hit a cringing Peter Pettigrew with a spell so powerful that it flipped him into three backward somersaults, and left him dangling, Stupefied, from the rafters.

So many Death Eaters were somersaulting backwards through the air from house elf stunning spells that the Great Hall looked like a three ring circus full of acrobats or, more likely with those masks, clowns.

Voldemort was ducking and weaving, as showers of spells came his way. As a Death Eater stumbled past with two house elves on his head, both trying to gouge his eyes out, Voldemort's nerve broke and he sprinted out of the Great Hall, in the direction of the Astronomy Tower.

Lightning crackled in the rafters overhead. Voldemort was no longer there to keep it in check. A blindingly brilliant, white-hot bolt of lightning speared down from the ceiling and struck the top of Bellatrix's head. There was a flash of light and when Harry could see again, he saw Bellatrix had been reduced to a smoking grease spot on the stone floor.

"Wicked!" muttered Ron.

"Ron, be quiet!" said Hermione.

Unconscious bodies, tied with rope, littered the hall. More lightning bolts were striking the Death Eaters who were still standing.

"I distinctly heard those Inferi talk," murmured Neville's grandmother. The hostages were waking up. Voldemort's stunning spells were fading.

"Harry? Are you dead?" Neville was frantic. Trevor was wriggling in his top pocket. The toad seemed to have doubled in size.

Harry didn't want to speak and give Snape away, but he felt his Glamour dissolve.

"Disguise no longer matters. Catching Voldemort does," said Snape. His robes billowed out behind him, as he ran through the door after the Dark wizard.

Harry started to run after Snape, but he stopped himself. "Neville, you've got to come with us," he said. "You're the Chosen One. You've got to destroy Voldemort!"

"Me?" Neville's eyes were as big as saucers.

"Yes you!" Harry grabbed one of Neville's arms, and Ron the other, and they pulled him to his feet.

"But I thought-" Neville's eyes raked Harry's scarless forehead.

"It's not me. We aren't sure who it is, but you're the only other person who was born at the end of July," said Harry. "The prophecy must refer to you!"

"The Chosen One, eh?" said Neville's grandmother. "Your parents would have been proud of you, Neville!"

Neville merely looked frightened, as the quartet dragged him after Voldemort and Snape, and towards destiny.

oOoOoOo

_**Author's Notes:** So who is the real Chosen One? Was Snape wrong, and it's Harry? Is it Neville? Someone else? All will be revealed in the next chapter._

_ **Replies to reviews: **__OMG! Thanks so much everyone! The Bodyguard has 1080 reviews now, counting the 89 reviews in the three and a bit days since I posted the last chapter. (Nearly killing Harry got a fantastic response, though the death threats were a bit of a worry. ;-)_

_ Thank you to the following people for reviewing: Chocola Emo Shizzlem, Puddles-dono, PENGUiN2006MASTER, Alexsandra, draconian snowangel216, T.Felton, chinadoll27, Quellesirel Peredhil, Cara, 3-left-turns, SeventhandHigher7, Lisi the slayer, Karaii, Rabid Reader 4, lonley.hopelessly-romantic, theSWAGGA, DarkxAz, ThePotionsMiss, Anshara, WiCkEdLiTtLeReD, GreenEyedCatDragon, aliasangel3, Shizu, semper paratis, piuk, telleo, Bleeding-Tears-06, AngelLuva, WAFFle Lover, Sakuramar, sasunaru lover, pltzchen, Fred kissed George, Die Kikyo Die, Potter's Wifey, Yellowwolf, HecateDeMort, dynonugget, Angel of Immortality, Kittendragon, justanotherfangirl35, dracoizumi, shadowama, tetra6, JacobimVonStyluss, mon-ami-runa, monamiruna, StunningSpellRocks2345, fragonknight01, Naesy, Crowley Black, MaisaG, black dilemma, Gryffindorgrl86, Artemis-Potter-Snape, Shadow, Jet Black Feeling, Riku-Rocks, ExhaleDreams, green eyed dragon, Serpente Amante, Tears Falling Freely, fufu.a.k.a.speechless, Your Mom Is My Heart., Elizabeth Patil, rekahneko, Moyima, thrnbrooke, NinjaoftheDarkness, txcalbud, 6tigercubs, ProperT, SoraIsRikus, Orgainoid, Ardent Affair, MayuBlack, cjandre, Sam, AmethystSiri, death by storm, unforgivable curse caster, and Muchacha. _

_ Anonymous: No, killing Harry wouldn't have necessarily killed the Horcrux. The way I figure it, to destroy life, you have to aim your Killing Curse at a person's soul. The soul fills the body (which is why Harry glowed like a neon light) so hitting any part of his body with Avada Kedavra would have killed him. But the Horcrux doesn't fill his body, it's only found in the scar. So it would take a direct hit on the scar to destroy it. BTW, thank you for killing your Internet twice for me! ;-)_

_ Rabid Reader 4: Good point. I had Harry mention to Snape that Aunt Petunia hadn't told Lily that Snape had visited. Thanks for your review!_

_ bellajen94: Hopefully I can come out of hiding now, because you're not going to kill me any more! ;-) Yes, Tonks and Lupin are married. They don't have any multicoloured werewolf babies yet. No, Draco doesn't dare know where his friends are, if they're placed under the Fidelius Charm. Remember Wormtail whinging in book 3 that Voldemort forced him to tell the Potter's location? I took that to mean Voldemort simply swiped the information, using Legilimency, out of rat man's stupid skull. The Secret Keeper needs powerful Occlumency, for the Charm to be secure, and Draco doesn't want to take the chance and risk his beloved friends' lives._

_ LunaSky: I LOLed at your review. Thank you!_

_ inu-youkai 911: Thanks for the beta and the review! _


	36. The Chosen One

**The Bodyguard**

** Chapter 36: The Chosen One**

"Neville, can't you go any faster?" Harry had never felt more frustrated. Across the other side of the courtyard, Snape's black robes whisked out of sight, into the stairwell leading up to the Astronomy Tower.

Voldemort was getting away.

But Neville was barely tottering along, and Harry groaned when he stopped altogether.

"I'm sorry!" Neville put his hands on his knees, bent down and wheezed. Sweat ran down his flushed face and he seemed completely exhausted. "Go on without me. I'll catch up, when I've got my breath back."

"Go on without you?" echoed Ron. "Are you out of your mind?"

"How could you let yourself get so unfit? You're supposed to be the Chosen One!" said Draco furiously.

Inwardly, Harry was in full agreement with his boyfriend. If a two-minute run could do this to Neville, how could he possibly survive a wand battle with the most dangerous wizard in the world? But he knew Neville's confidence was easily punctured, so he shook his head, warningly, at the Slytherin.

"We need you with us, Neville," said Hermione, with a quelling look at Ron.

"I haven't had to climb this many stairs all at once, since I left school," Neville admitted shamefacedly.

"Voldemort is going to escape-!" Draco began, but Hermione cut him off.

"He can't escape. The Astronomy Tower's a dead end."

"He'll fly away when he reaches the top," said Draco.

"How? He doesn't have a broom," said Ron.

"There are ways of making one," said Draco ominously.

While his friends bickered, Harry considered what to do next. Neville was still gasping for breath. Making him run up to the top of the Astronomy Tower clearly was out of the question. There was only one thing left for Harry to do. He though, Levicorpus!

Yelling and flapping his arms helplessly, Neville floated up into the air. "He's got me! He Who Must Not Be Named has got me!"

"Quiet, Neville, it's me," said Harry. "I'll float you up the stairs, so you can get your breath back."

"Good thinking," said Draco, and gave Harry a kiss.

Neville's eyes nearly popped out of his head, and he stopped struggling. "Are you two together?"

"Are they ever together, Neville! The THINGS I have seen them doing," muttered Ron, with a martyred air.

"You didn't HAVE to wander into our bedroom," said Draco.

"Too much information." Neville blushed.

"Yes, I thought so too," said Ron.

"Shut up and run!" said Harry. He set off, dragging Neville's floating body behind him, "Everyone, get your wands out and keep quiet. Voldemort could be anywhere."

They entered the stairwell. The stone stairs had never looked more intimidating ... or endless.

"I don't know if I can fight You Know Who, Harry," whispered Neville miserably, as he bobbed up the stairs. He had his breath back, but he was pale as a ghost.

"Shh! It's okay, we'll keep him busy for you." Harry wasn't looking at Neville. It was alarming, not knowing if Voldemort was lying in wait for them around the next corner. He wondered if they'd come across Snape's body.

Draco caught up with Harry as they rounded the fifth flight of stairs. "Keep Voldemort busy? How are we going to do that? Discuss knitting patterns? Play Gobstones? The bastard is going to kill us on sight."

"We have to give Neville a chance, Draco. He's the only person who could possibly be the Chosen One." Harry aimed his next words at his floating friend. "We need you, Neville - no the whole world needs you - to point a wand and say Avada Kedavra. That's all you need to do," he said, in what he hoped was a convincing voice. "It doesn't matter if we catch Voldemort first and hold him steady for you. As long as we satisfy the prophecy."

"Damn this prophecy, Harry," said Draco. "If we survive, I'm going to have a word to Trelawney. Couldn't she have prophesised something easy, like Voldemort dropping dead of his own accord?"

Everyone chuckled nervously. But Harry stifled his laughter and raised his index finger to his lips, indicating the need for silence.

Naturally, Draco kept talking, though he kept his voice low. "Severus is up there. Maybe HE'S keeping Voldemort busy?"

As they rounded the second last flight of stairs, it became clear that Draco was right. Two voices floated down from top of the tower. Silently, Harry put Neville down.

"You destroyed Harry Potter!" Voldemort's high-pitched voice shook with fury.

"You wanted the boy dead, my Lord. Why does it matter who killed him? Surely you should be rewarding me." Snape's voice was at its silkiest.

"I'll reward you as you deserve! Disobeying my orders is a capital crime!"

"You mean to kill me?" Snape sounded bored. "If you must, I suppose."

Voldemort's high-pitched laughter echoed down the stairwell. "It's almost a pity. You're not quite as worthless as the rest of them, Severus. They've already suffered the fate that they deserved."

"You're abandoning your Death Eaters? Your only family?"

"Conquered by mere half-breeds, they deserve it," sneered Voldemort. "But your death will be useful to me, Severus. I'd planned to Transfigure one of these stones into a broomstick. But the human to broomstick Transfiguration is far easier. It will kill you, but you deserve this punishment, don't you?"

The quartet, and Neville were climbing the final stairs. Neville's wand shook uncontrollably.

"If you say so, my Lord," said Snape sarcastically.

"Goodbye, Severus Snape."

No! Don't kill Severus! Harry thought. He remembered how Cedric Diggory had died so quickly and senselessly, and he put on an extra burst of speed but the stairs went on forever. The door seemed miles away. He had to save Severus. He had to...

He was just in time to see Voldemort, standing on the crenulated parapet wall as though about to fly away, and looking down at Snape. As quick as a striking snake, Voldemort raised his wand and fired off a spell.

"Virgacreo!"

Harry was too late.

But even as the bile-yellow spell left Voldemort's wand, Snape responded. With a feline grace he sidestepped the attack, which shattered a stone behind him, and brought his own wand up in a silent blur of movement and light. Voldemort's wand went spinning out of his hand, and Snape reached up and plucked it casually out of the air.

Suddenly rendered wandless by his most trusted servant, Voldemort couldn't have looked more surprised if the night sky had turned green, or the stars had started dancing in conga lines. The stealthy, secretive black panther, undetected for so long, had pounced; but even now, with Snape smirking as he held his captured wand, Voldemort didn't understand. His red eyes narrowed into slits. "Give it back to me, Severus! At once!" he ordered.

"No," said Snape softly.

Voldemort bared his teeth, and was clearly about to castigate his errant Death Eater, when he spotted the quartet and Neville in the doorway. All five were brandishing their wands at him, and without the Glamours over their eyes, the quartet were obviously very much alive.

"You've lost, Voldemort," said Harry, with relish and relief. He grinned at Snape.

Shocked beyond reason, at the appearance of the boy he thought of as the Chosen One and only one who could defeat him, Voldemort took an involuntary step backwards, and teetered for a moment on the edge of the parapet, before he recovered his balance. Disbelief and horror were written all over his face.

Snape, by comparison, seemed utterly composed. He held up and examined Voldemort's wand. "Yew with phoenix feather. A wand of poisonous wood, with the powers of death and resurrection. The wand chooses the wizard. But I wonder if this wand knew its eventual fate?"

Voldemort stared at him, speechless.

"What fate?" asked Harry.

"This one!" Snape had never looked more dangerous. Holding Voldemort's wand in both hands, he brought it down hard and snapped it over his knee. Harry heard the eerie, spine-tingling music of phoenix song and saw a burst of red-golden flame, as the wand broke into two pieces. Then the light and music faded to nothing. The broken pieces Snape held, were now mere hollow sticks.

Voldemort let out a bestial scream of agony. He held out both begging arms in the direction of his broken wand, and sank, whimpering, to his knees, his chalk-white face comical and clown-like, in its rictus of horror and fear. Now, at last, too late, he realised Snape was his enemy.

Draco gasped, and yanked down his left sleeve. On his forearm, the Dark Mark was a shadow, a moving, writhing tattoo. But as Harry watched, it evaporated out of Draco's skin like black mist. For a moment, the smoky skull with a snake through its mouth, lingered threateningly in the air, and then it faded away. Draco's arm was pale and clean again.

"Your magic is over, Tom," stated Snape, dispelling the remains of his own Dark Mark, with an idle wave of his hand. His wand twitched and the broken pieces of Voldemort's wand fell to dust.

Voldemort cringed and rocked himself, moaning in his misery.

"Dumbledore is my true master. I've spent years fighting secretly against you, and you never even suspected," said Snape contemptuously. "And speaking of Dumbledore, he would have wanted to see this. Lily too. Expecto Patronum!"

The silvery forms of Dumbledore and Lily exploded into view, and Voldemort stood up hastily and stepped backwards in order to put as much distance between himself and the spirit guardian as possible. The Patronus settled and Harry thought his heart would burst with happiness, when his mother laid her hand on his shoulder. He looked up at Voldemort, conscious that the love shining in his eyes was a poison to his enemy.

Vengeance is sweet," Snape crooned. "There you are, standing above the spot my friend, the greatest wizard of all time, Albus Dumbledore, stood when I was forced to kill him. Thanks to you!"

"You'll die like Dumbledore! I'll kill you, Severus! I'll kill you all!" Voldemort screeched. Like a cornered beast, his terror was changing into rage.

"Is that so? Then try a wandless Avada Kedavra, Tom. Try a wandless ANYTHING." Snape sneered. He waited, but Voldemort didn't move. "I know what you're capable of, and if I though you were the slightest bit dangerous without your wand, you'd already be dead. I even know what name causes you maximum anguish. Don't I, Tom?"

Voldemort looked so ridiculous in his impotent rage that the quartet and Neville started to laugh, and Harry wondered at himself. At Hogwarts, he'd often seen Draco at Snape's side, laughing (sycophantically, or so Harry had thought at the time) at his cruel and sarcastic comments. It made a pleasant change to see Snape's intimidation skills being aimed at the one person who actually deserved them.

"The name of my filthy Muggle father is your only weapon, traitor," said Voldemort. Despite his brave words, he was edging backwards. "You cannot win! That accursed Muggle-lover, Dumbledore, had a hundred and fifty years of life. I will have forever! Kill me, and when you are all doddering and old, I will come back, stronger than I am now, and FINISH you! I am IMMORTAL!" His voice rose to a scream.

"I have one word to say to that, Tom," said Snape. "Horcruxes!"

Voldemort froze.

"They are destroyed! All six!" continued Snape. "You only had six, Tom. I can read it in your mind. You cannot perform Occlumency without a wand."

Voldemort broke eye contact, but it was too late.

Harry spoke up proudly. "Draco captured the snake. I destroyed the diary. Dumbledore destroyed the ring. But Severus did most of the work."

"It was I who destroyed the Horcruxes in the snake, in Hufflepuff's cup, Slytherin's locket and in Harry's Gryffindor scar," said Snape.

At every item, Voldemort flinched, as though struck. By the final item, he was gibbering in fear, and dribbling like a pathetic old clown. "I'm mortal! And the Chosen One is here!" He stared at Harry.

Neville nervously raised a hand.

But it was Snape who spoke. "Harry Potter isn't the Chosen One, you old fool. Neither is Neville Longbottom. I AM the Chosen One!"

Everyone turned to stare at him.

"Who destroyed most of your Horcruxes? Who stayed at your side for years, saving your victims, and spying on you undetected? Who tricked you into coming to Hogwarts, where the hundred and ten house elves, who keep my secrets, and Dumbledore's, and still serve me, destroyed your Death Eaters? Who is going to vanquish you now?"

Voldemort inched backwards. "Vanquish?"

"Yes, vanquish. That is the word from the prophecy. The prophecy I heard every word of, though I only told you half. Now you will learn it all."

"Severus, you're teaching again," Harry pointed out. He was vastly intrigued. Was Severus Snape truly the Chosen One?

Snape glanced at Harry and his lips twitched. "Why should I break the habit of a lifetime for that dunderhead on the parapet?"

"I don't think telling him the whole prophecy is a good idea," said Hermione.

"Why not? If Severus vanquishes Voldemort straight afterwards, it doesn't matter," said Harry, grinning savagely.

"Tell him! I want to hear," said Neville.

Snape recited the prophecy:

"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches ... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies ... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not ... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives..."

"B-But you can't be the Chosen One, Severus. You were born in January, not July," stuttered Voldemort.

"How long have you know that?" Snape drew himself up threateningly.

Voldemort cringed. "Fifteen years!" His voice was even higher pitched than usual.

"Fifteen years! You've known the date of my birthday all that time?" Snape's voice reached a crescendo of mock rage. "And you haven't given me a single birthday present?"

The quartet and Neville snorted with laughter.

"The birth refers to my REBIRTH," Snape continued, when the laughter had died down. "When my half prophecy sent you, Tom, after the Potters and the Longbottoms, when July ended, I knew the time had come to go to Dumbledore. On that day, I shed all the beliefs, all the allegiances, of my old life. I gained a new life: a new job, new friends, membership of the Order of the Phoenix, and a new Patronus." He gazed lovingly at the silvery figures. "I was born again to Lily Potter, and Albus Dumbledore, both of whom had thrice defied you, Tom!"

Neville's eyes widened. "My Mum and Dad defied Voldemort three times." He said the name of the conquered wizard in front of him without any trouble at all. "Is that why you thought I was the Chosen One, Harry?"

"Yes, Neville. I'm sorry we exhausted you for nothing."

Draco chortled.

"M-Mark him as his equal," Voldemort stuttered, pointing a trembling finger at Harry's now unmarked forehead.

"I'd call you a fool, Tom," said Snape silkily. "But even Dumbledore made that mistake. That Horcrux scar on Harry's forehead wasn't the mark from the prophecy. But I can't show you the real Mark now. It was one you gave me, to Mark me as your equal, your family, Tom, though you have even less idea of happy family life than my vicious Muggle father. It was my Dark Mark, which has now..." He raised his left arm and pulled down his sleeve, exposing unmarked flesh. "...gone."

Voldemort actually whimpered.

"And power the Dark Lord knows not?" asked Neville, fascinated.

"You four answer that. Surprise me with your acumen," said Snape, gesturing at the quartet.

Harry grinned, feeling once again as though he were back in school. To his amusement, Hermione stuck her hand up.

"A hundred and ten house elves," she said eagerly, standing on tiptoes.

"Put your hand down, girl," said Snape irritably. "Yes, I predict a great change in the status of house elves, after what they have achieved here tonight, in front of the Ministry."

Hermione beamed.

"Fast reflexes?" suggested Ron.

"The power of Occlumency," said Draco. He had been dignified enough not to stick up his hand.

"Love," said Harry. "Don't make that face at me, Severus. Love of my mother, and Dumbledore is what changed your life. But I think all of us are right, and you may even have other powers we haven't mentioned." He grinned. "Do we get House Points?"

"Harry, do you recall our previous conversation about your maturity?" Snape's eyes glittered.

"Yes."

"I've changed my mind. You lack it entirely."

Harry stuck his tongue out. "There's one last thing I don't understand. You weren't born, or reborn, when you first heard the prophecy. So why didn't you tell the whole thing to Vold ... Tom here?"

"Because I already suspected I was the Chosen One."

"How did you know?"

"Have you ever heard Professor Trelawney give one of her true prophecies?"

"Yes. That strange voice she uses..."

"Then you'll understand how I knew I was the Chosen One. Imagine that voice saying 'the Chosen One approaches, marked as the Dark Lord's equal' when YOU'RE the one approaching the door and your Dark Mark is burning!"

"You really are the Chosen One," said Harry. He was elated. He was free!

"Are you going to vanquish Voldemort now, Professor Snape?" asked Neville.

"Vanquish the last descendant of Salazar Slytherin? Severus, you were Head of Slytherin's own House! How can you justify such treachery? How can you justify consorting with Mudbloods that Slytherin himself would have killed?" sneered Voldemort. Sweat was pouring down his face.

Snape looked irritated. "You clearly haven't read Hogwarts: A History."

"He's not the only one," murmured Hermione, glancing sideways through narrowed eyes at Harry and Ron.

"Salazar Slytherin was a famed pure-blood, and anti-Muggle fanatic but such views were commonplace and justified a thousand years ago," said Snape. "Muggles were murdering us! Slytherin lost nearly all of his relatives, and all of his students. So he, Gryffindor, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff banded together to create a secluded place, called Hogwarts, outside Muggle society, where they could teach magic in safety."

"Safety? Slytherin put a basilisk in the school!" scoffed Harry.

"Yes, but only after he'd been teaching for five decades. I know exactly how he feels," said Snape snidely.

Harry opened his mouth, but Snape cut him off. "Seriously, though, Slytherin was a hundred and fifty years old, when the school began. Powerful wizards start going senile at that age." Snape took a deep breath. "A thousand years ago, life for wizards and witches was tougher than we can possibly imagine today. Muggle-born students going home from school, for their holidays, would be captured and tortured for the names of other witches and wizards. At the age of two hundred, in his growing madness, Slytherin decided that Muggle-borns were naturally untrustworthy. Even when the students in question were only twelve years old and being tortured for information by their own parents! But Slytherin didn't always think that way. Do you honestly imagine the other three would have formed a school with him if he'd been keen, from the start, to murder a quarter of the students?"

Harry closed his mouth.

"I think part of the reason Dumbledore tricked me into killing him, was because he didn't want to risk ending up like Slytherin. I saw Dumbledore's boggart once. It was himself - senile, insane and evil. He imagined himself murdering the students he'd have died to protect while in his right mind, and no one was powerful enough to stop him," said Snape, staring into space. His Dumbledore Patronus rested a hand gently on his shoulder.

"So that's why Gryffindor threw Slytherin out?" asked Harry.

Snape shook himself, and his pensive mood vanished. "Gryffindor didn't throw Slytherin out! Another Slytherin did the deed. Salazar's most trusted and powerful student - Perseus Evans."

Harry gave a start.

"Was he related to your mother, Harry? I don't know. It was over a thousand years ago. He could have been related to any one of us." Snape glared at Voldemort. "Don't dare call me traitor! I'm merely following the ancient, honourable tradition of Slytherin House - cleaning out the lunatics! Slytherin, in his right mind, would have been ashamed of you, Tom! You're so inbred, your insanity started from birth!"

"You're going to vanquish Voldemort now? What does vanquish actually mean?" asked Neville.

"To conquer, defeat or subjugate," said Hermione instantly.

"Not kill then," said Neville.

Snape's wand, which had been pointing squarely at Voldemort, as though taking aim, wobbled. "Not necessarily," he said slowly.

"Voldemort is vanquished already, Severus," said Harry. "The prophecy is complete, and Voldemort doesn't have to be murdered." He'd seen that wand wobble and understood. Dumbledore had BEGGED for Snape to kill him. But Voldemort had his hands together and was begging for mercy. Snape couldn't kill anyone in cold blood. Not even Voldemort.

"I'll do it," said Harry. He raised his own wand, and stared the grovelling Dark wizard in the eye. This wizard murdered my parents, he thought. "Avada..." he began, but the words caught in his throat.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake, I'll do it," said Ron. He raised his wand...

"Killing is not nearly as easy as the innocent believe," whispered Draco, lowering his wand completely. His face was haunted, Harry guessed with memories of Dumbledore's death. Harry wrapped a comforting arm around him.

Suddenly, Voldemort yelped. Bat bogeys were flapping around his face and he tried to flick them away.

"Don't look at me like that," said Ron to Snape and the quartet. "I couldn't kill him. I had to do something!"

Hermione studied her feet. Neville paced in frustration.

Amid the flapping bogeys, Voldemort stared down at them Slowly, his confidence was returning. "None of you is brave enough to kill me?" he asked. When no one replied, he threw back his head and laughed, nearly swallowing a bogey.

"It's a very terrible thing for one wizard to kill another. That's what you never learned, Tom, and look at the state of you," said Snape. "No, Tom, I have a better idea." His expression became devilish. "The Muggle asylum!"

Instantly, Voldemort's new-found confidence evaporated, and he was cast back into cringing misery, now with livened up with bat bogeys.

"Dumbledore showed you the memory of his first meeting with Tom," stated Harry.

"Yes, he did," said Snape. "What a foul, little child you were, Tom! Hanging pet rabbits from the rafters! The child who tortures animals grows up to torture people. But you started on people earlier than most, didn't you? Those two children you took to the cave?"

"I didn't mean to hurt them. They asked for it. Don't take me to the asylum," whimpered Voldemort. He sounded like a frightened ten-year-old.

"Did you think, when you found out you were a wizard, Tom, that you'd escaped the asylum for good?" asked Snape silkily. "No, it's been waiting for you all along, Tom. Biding its time. Without your wand, you're nothing more than a crazy old man. Soon you'll be drugged up and dribbling in a straightjacket, like the rest of the psychopaths."

An insane terror came over Voldemort. "Don't make me go there! Please!"

"No one there will believe anything you say about your former life. A wizard? Ha! Your powers have gone! Soon, all your memories will seem like delusions, Tom. You won't believe you were ever a wizard. You won't believe that you were ever special at all!"

Not being special was the final straw for Voldemort. He took a step backwards, gibbering in terror, but it was one step too far. His foot went out into the empty air, and he fell. Windmilling his arms comically, he let out a high-pitched scream and tumbled backwards out of sight.

Harry, and everyone else, rushed to the parapet and peered down. They saw Voldemort's screaming, tumbling, flailing figure still falling. Then the scream suddenly cut off, with a wet crunch, as he struck the rocks far below, and lay still.

Dumbledore been peaceful and majestic in death. But Voldemort's clothing was in disarray, and his slitted nostrils, red eyes and deathly pale skin made him look like a badly painted carnival head. His corpse was absurd and laughable. His death shameful and ignominious. Voldemort's boggart would have looked exactly as Voldemort did now.

Harry watched to see if the spirit form of Voldemort would leave his body. He watched for any evidence at all that the Dark wizard, despite their best efforts to destroy the Horcruxes, was still clinging to life. But he saw nothing.

Hermione turned away from the corpse first. "So that's what the prophecy meant? Neither can live while the other survives, but you didn't need to kill him, only vanquish him. Because Voldemort killed himself by accident in the end." She was breathing deeply, as though fighting the urge to be sick.

"Either must die at the hand of the other," said Snape, still staring down. "Voldemort's hand must have meant Wormtail's silver hand. I made sure Wormtail was taken care of downstairs. Even if he'd survived, he wouldn't have tried to help his master. He owes you a life debt, Harry, and he thought you were the Chosen One. But I'm babbling. Is Voldemort truly dead?" He raised his wand. "Avada Kedavra!" The green spell passed through the body, far below, without change, and plunged into the ground.

"How far does the Killing Curse go through solid rock? I only ask, because you may have just given someone in China a very bad day," said Harry.

"It only travels a few centimetres," Snape said. "Otherwise, those wizards fighting in the Middle East would have killed the whole world by now."

Neville stared at the corpse. "Does Voldemort look vanquished to you?"

Harry gave an involuntary, undignified snort of laughter. He wasn't quite sure why, as Neville's comment wasn't particularly funny. Perhaps he just needed a break in the tension. But Draco and Ron started to laugh (at him Harry suspected) and Hermione chuckled and covered her mouth with her hand.

Harry couldn't remember Snape laughing properly before, but he started laughing now, an infectious, deep roar that made Harry snort all the harder. Without his usual disagreeable expression, Snape actually looked handsome and Harry no longer wondered what his mother had seen in him. You're not my father, Harry thought. But you could be my friend and mentor.

"Voldemort IS vanquished!" exclaimed Snape.

"Completely vanquished," said Ron. Hermione kissed him.

"That is a vanquished Voldemort," drawled Draco, then he grinned when Harry hugged him from behind.

"The Ministry must be informed," said Snape.

"I can't wait to tell them, that you're the Chosen One," said Harry.

To Harry's surprise, Snape glared at him. "You don't mind me stealing your glory? Taking your fame?"

"I NEVER WANTED TO BE FAMOUS!" Harry shouted.

Snape looked doubtful.

"I never did," said Harry more quietly. "I hated everyone staring at me. I hated having lies printed about me, and my friends, in the Daily Prophet. I would have swapped every galleon I owned for a peaceful life but I never had the opportunity."

"Is that so?" Snape sounded doubtful. "Are you sure you don't mind missing out on all the attention? You seemed to enjoy it-"

"I HATED the attention and I'll prove it. Rita Skeeter's downstairs. I'll march right up to her and tell her to bother YOU for a change, Severus. Would you like that?"

Snape's eyes actually lit up. "I would LOVE that!"

oOoOoOo

Every single, living Death Eater was tied up and unconscious. The freed hostages were gathered around the main table, where Harry saw Scrimgeour talking to the assembled house elves.

"Order of Merlin, First Class! Every one of you!"

All hundred and ten house elves bowed and giggled.

"And clothes! You deserve to be free," Scrimgeour added.

Clearly, the house elves disagreed. They stared at Scrimegour in horror, and as one, they clicked their fingers and vanished.

"Ungrateful little..." Scrimgeour muttered. Then he caught sight of Snape, Harry, Hermione, Ron, Draco and Neville emerging from the side door. He pulled out his wand and pointed it at Snape. "Death Eater!" he cried, and some of the hostages squealed.

Harry stood in front of Snape. "Severus is not a Death Eater," he announced. "He is the true Chosen One. Voldemort has just been vanquished by his hand!"

The hostages heard the name and looked at each other. Harry could see that they believed him. Ever since Voldemort's wand had been destroyed, saying his name no longer caused fear.

"Tell us what happened," demanded Scrimgeour. Rita Skeeter was panting in excitement and clutching her notepad.

Harry gave everyone an account of the night's events, paying particular attention to Snape's role. He saw Rita scribbling notes with her Quick Quotes Quill. "Severus Snape's not a Death Eater, he's a hero," he concluded.

"Order of Merlin, First Class for Severus Snape!" roared Scrimgeour. "I'll invent a higher award just for you!"

Snape's sallow skin flushed. He'd never looked happier. He slipped into the chattering crowd of hostages, all congratulating him. Harry smiled. Fame and fortune had eluded Snape all his life. Now it had found him. Rita Skeeter was stabbing everyone who stood between her and Snape, with her quill.

"Harry!" Fred and George chorused. They rushed over and hugged him.

Breaking out of their grip, Harry asked. "What are you two doing here?"

"Pansy Parkinson took pity on us and shagged us both," said Fred.

"Of course she did, you're both rich," muttered Draco, so quietly that only Harry could hear.

"Then we put on our virgin disguise hats afterwards. It wasn't pretty, Harry. The magic in the hats must have reacted with our lack of virginity. You wouldn't believe where we've got tentacles sprouting now. Mum took us straight to St Mungo's, where Death Eaters kidnapped us," said George glumly.

"We're going to have to go back to the drawing board with those hats," said Fred.

"How awful," said Harry, aware that Ron had collapsed with laughter behind him and Draco was steering him away. "I'll see you guys around!"

"I want to shag you senseless, Harry," said Draco, the moment he'd dragged Harry aside. He leaned in for a kiss, but Harry stopped him.

"Not in front of Rita Skeeter! Let's go back to the Headquarters ... no! Let's go to the Leaky Cauldron. They have four-poster beds."

Draco's eyes blazed. "Brilliant!"

There was a popping noise, and Harry staggered. Dobby had just wrapped himself around his legs. "Harry Potter, sir! He Who Must Not Be Named, can finally be named! Voldemort! Voldemort! Voldemort! Voldemort! Dobby is a very happy elf now, sir!"

"It's wonderful, Dobby. Thanks for your help," said Harry, trying to escape.

"It's just as the Sorting Hat said, sir. All the Houses are friends now, sir!" said Dobby, in a loud and penetrating voice. "Harry Potter, sir, you and Draco Malfoy was always fighting, but now both of you is shagging each other, sir!"

Unfortunately, Dobby's announcement must have occurred during a lull in the conversation, for every single person in the Great Hall heard, and turned to stare. Harry and Draco blushed, utterly mortified.

"Shagging?" asked Rita Skeeter, looking like all her Christmases had come at once. She had been asking Snape a question, but now she moved away from him and towards Harry and Draco, her quill at the ready.

"Oh no!" muttered Harry, pushing Dobby off his legs.

"How long have you known you were gay, Harry?" asked Rita, closing in.

Harry grabbed Draco's hand. "Chosen One," he shouted at Snape. "I'll leave you to handle your publicity. We're getting out of here!"

oOoOoOo

_**Author's Notes:** Voldemort has rung down the curtain and joined the choir invisible. He is an ex-Voldemort. Now for Harry and Draco's celebratory shagging! (If they can get away from Rita Skeeter first. ;-)_

_ Perseus Evans is an anagram of Severus Snape. If Voldemort had read Hogwarts: A History, he might have guessed what was coming. _

_ Only a shagging chapter, and a quick epilogue left! The light at the end of the tunnel is visible. I think it may be a train on fire, though. ;-)_

_ **Replies to reviews:**_

_ Thank you to the following people for reviewing: Avalene, luna, Mila, Serpente Amante, Frenchie 283, DragynCrye, Karaii, Ayanna88, ThePotionsMiss, PENGUiN2006MASTER, draconian snowangel216, dracoizumi, Saiyou-the-lover, shadowama, Potter's Wifey, Puddles-dono, Anshara, pltzchen, Rabid Reader 4, lil kitsunse, Sakuramar, ExhaleDreams, rekahneko, namkrowa91, RRW, Log-In, RavenclawBest, LunaSky, Yellowwolf, bellajen94, MayuBlack, dynonugget, Yea07, Riku-Rocks, Fmh, Crowley Black, Lisi the slayer, StunningSpellRocks2345, HecateDeMort, Gryffindorgrl86, Wings of Pheonix Fire, telleo, ProperT, piuk, txcalbud, InTheTelling, Fmh, Chibis, death by storm, Moyima, Iset, Cara, CatWriter, SoraIsRikus, GreenEyedCatDragon, Chocola Emo Shizzle, oli, NinjaoftheDarkness, 6tigercubs, inu-youkai 911, thrnbrooke, and Your Mom Is My Heart. _


	37. Love Forever: Shagging!

**_Slash Warning: This chapter contains graphic descriptions of men shagging other men. Slash, in other words. If slash bothers you, or if you are too young to be legally reading that sort of thing, please stop reading now._**

oOoOoOo

**The Bodyguard**

** Chapter 37: Love Forever**

Draco slammed Hogwart's main doors behind him. "I thought house elves were supposed to keep their master's secrets? Not shout them out in front of muckraking journalists and the Minister!"

"Dobby's a free elf, and he can say anything he likes. He made a mistake, that's all," said Harry loyally, trying not to think of the other mistakes Dobby had made, such as stealing his mail or breaking his arm.

"Now I know why my parents always made Dobby stay in the kitchen when we had guests. We're going to be front-page news, Harry!"

"Voldemort's death and the real Chosen One will be on the front-page today, not our sex lives," said Harry confidently.

Draco was about to reply, when the doors started opening. He and Harry glanced at each other in alarm.

"If that's you, Rita, no comment!" exclaimed Harry, grabbing Draco's arm.

"It's just us." Hermione's voice was muffled but easily recognisable.

Harry sighed in relief. He caught a glimpse of the crowd inside, as Hermione and Ron stepped outside, but he couldn't see Rita Skeeter's sculpted blonde hair anywhere.

Hermione shut the doors. Both she and Ron were looking especially pleased about something. Their arms were around each other and their cheeks were rosy. "We had to follow you. We've got important news," said Hermione, her blush deepening. "Ronald has just asked me to marry him!"

"And Hermione said yes!" said Ron, pulling her close.

Harry stared at Ron and Hermione, and memories flashed before his eyes. He saw them as eleven-year-olds, who hadn't spoken a civil word to each other, until that incident with the troll in the bathroom. He saw the years Ron and Hermione had spent fighting each other, liking each other, hating each other, not speaking to each other, and finally, loving each other. So much had happened, all leading to this...

He snapped out of his reverie when he heard Draco congratulating them.

"Congratulations!" said Harry belatedly.

"You all right there, mate? You look stunned," said Ron.

"I was thinking how much we've all changed," said Harry. He looked at the happy couple and beamed. "I'm so happy for you both! I really mean it - congratulations!" He hugged them.

"You're both perfect for each other!" Draco whooped. He hugged them as well. "Have you set a date yet?"

Harry listened, as Hermione and Draco launched into a highly technical (and to Harry, extremely boring) discussion of where the wedding would be held, what Hermione would wear and whether the invitations should be pale blue.

Ron's eyes were glazing over as well, and he took Harry aside. "Draco sounds like a wedding planner," he said with a grin. "It must be the Slytherin in him. Give him anything social and he'll organise it. He'd be a very useful person for YOU to tie the knot with, Harry."

Harry blushed. "I love him. I'd marry him in a second, but I thought men couldn't get married?"

"That might be true in the Muggle world, but wizards can marry."

"Then I'd love to but..." Something Snape had told him was niggling at his mind. "Aren't you frightened of the future, Ron? Remember what Severus said about teenage romances? Most of them fail. Are you sure you two should be settling down so early? The Vow means..." Harry's voice trailed off and he bit his lip. He was aware that Hermione and Draco had stopped talking.

"You're frightened Draco will stop loving you, and the Vow will kill him," stated Ron evenly.

Squeezing his eyes shut with pain, Harry nodded. He opened his eyes when Draco flung his arms around him.

"Don't let Severus get to you, Harry," Draco said bracingly. "You haven't had a chance to properly get to know him yet, but he's a real glass half empty sort of person."

"Half of teenage marriages fail? That means half survive!" said Hermione. She smiled at Ron. "Yes, we're young to be settling down, and it's going to be hard work sometimes. But Ron's the only man I've ever wanted, and I just have to look at his family to know he's a long term prospect."

"Severus can't warn US about teenage love dying," said Draco. "Look at HIS life! He fell in love with your mother as a teenager, Harry, and he's still risking his life for her, even though she died seventeen years ago."

"My parents got married in their teens, and they're still in love thirty-one years later," Ron pointed out.

"Cheer up, Harry, the Vow won't come back. And by the way, yes," Draco added with a smirk.

"Yes to what?" asked Harry.

"Yes to your marriage proposal. I heard you talking to Ron," said Draco, his cheeks turning pink.

A stab of joy went through Harry. Too happy to speak, he flung his arms around Draco and kissed him passionately.

"We can have a double wedding!" cried Hermione, her eyes dewy.

Draco broke the kiss. "Good idea!" he said to Hermione. "I like the idea of pale blue wedding invitations and-"

"Arrrgh! No more wedding planning!" shouted Harry. "Leave it for later, Draco. Please! I just want to be alone with you right now."

"And I want to be alone with you, Hermione," said Ron, giving her a smouldering look.

Hermione looked rather hot and bothered, but delighted. "Mmm, you've talked me into it." She turned to Harry and Draco. "We're going back to the Headquarters. Bye!" In a rush, she grabbed Ron's arm, and Side-Along Disapparated.

Harry gazed at Draco. "Time for a little private celebration at the Leaky Cauldron," he purred. Then his eyes widened, as a worrying thought struck him. "If they're open..."

oOoOoOo

It was well after midnight, but the lights in the Leaky Cauldron were on. Through the window, Harry could see Tom the innkeeper, fully dressed, sitting at the bar, and writing a letter. He looked up, when Harry knocked on the front door.

Tom answered the door immediately. "You two!" he exclaimed, looking star-struck and shaking their hands. "Mr Potter! Mr Malfoy! Come in! Come in! I'm so pleased to see you! The Death Eaters abducted my sister tonight, and she's just sent me a letter telling me she's safe. I hear you were both there when Voldemort was vanquished at Hogwarts!" The innkeeper was clearly enjoying the novelty of saying the Dark wizard's name without fear. "But is it true this time? Is Voldemort really dead?"

"It's true," said Harry. "Voldemort is very definitely and permanently dead." He told Tom the shortened version of what had happened.

"The wizarding world will be celebrating this for years!" Tom was jubilant.

Harry stifled a yawn. It was very late.

"But you're not here to talk. Is it a room you're after?" asked Tom.

"Yes, please," said Draco.

"Unfortunately only Room Eleven is free, and it's only got a double four-poster bed," said Tom looking at them thoughtfully.

"That will be fine," said Harry, feeling the heat rising in his cheeks. He saw the penny had dropped, as far as his relationship with Draco was concerned. But the innkeeper was discreet.

"Please follow me, Mr Potter, Mr Malfoy." He led them up the handsome wooden staircase to their room. "Have a good night's sleep," he said.

Room Eleven, from the brass number on the door, to the highly polished oak furniture, was the same as it had been in the happy two weeks Harry had spent there after blowing up his aunt in Third Year. The four-poster bed looked comfortable, and a small, crackling fire burned in the fireplace.

"You again, lad? My you've grown, but your hair's still messy."

The wheezy voice was coming from the mirror. Harry froze. When he'd planned on coming to the Leaky Cauldron, he'd forgotten he'd be shagging in front of an audience of sentient mirrors and paintings.

"The first pure-blood rule of decorating a bedroom is: never hang anything on the walls that can pass judgement while you're shagging," said Draco. He lifted the protesting mirror down from the wall. "I'm hiding you in the bathroom," he told it sternly. "Help me, Harry. Grab any painting you see that has people."

Harry took down a painting of a man strolling along the seaside, wearing neck-to-knee swimming trunks, and Draco came back and removed a picture of a boy with a butterfly net. Harry gratefully took down a jeering painting of an entire Quidditch team. ("Leave us up! We wanted to see the shagging! It's not like we've done much ourselves lately!") But when he saw the final painting, he stopped and stared.

It was a rather beautiful, and surreal. A windmill, painted in thick horizontal red and white stripes, with slowly spinning sails, floated through a cloudscape, as though liberated from the earth. Harry stared at it and was surprised to feel tears well up. He wasn't sure why the image affected him so much, except that the flying windmill looked like happiness itself: fleeting, difficult to capture, apparently unachievable and impossible, but still undeniably real.

There were no people in the painting. When Harry felt Draco's warmth at his side, he turned around, fell into his arms and kissed him like a drowning man seeking oxygen.

oOoOoOo

Harry wriggled his nose. It was itching under his glasses, and he wanted to scratch it, but he was naked and tied to the four-poster bed by his wrists and ankles. Draco, who was still fully dressed, noticed Harry's twisted expression and reached out and scratched his nose for him. Harry tried to kiss his hand when he'd finished, but Draco teasingly pulled it out of his reach.

"I've been waiting to see you like this for years, Potter. You're mine! All mine!" Draco trailed his hand possessively down Harry's chest.

Harry arched into his touch as best he could, loving every minute. Draco always made it so very clear he was WANTED. To someone who'd spent his early life unwanted in a cupboard, it was heaven.

Draco rubbed noses with Harry. "You are so gorgeous! Go on, say something nasty, so you're more like my fantasy."

Harry thought hard, but his mind was blank. The firelight turned Draco's white-blond hair and pale skin a flickering pink, and Harry couldn't take his eyes off him. "I can't think of anything nasty."

"That makes a change!" said Draco scathingly.

His tone made Harry try harder. "Uh, you're a pretty boy!"

"Jealous," breathed Draco. "You're bottoming tonight, Potter."

"Oh..." Harry's eyes nearly popped out of his head and he yanked on his bonds. "I'd forgotten about that."

"You don't have to if you don't want to," said Draco hastily.

"I did promise," said Harry. "Err, what's it like? Bottoming, I mean."

"Fun. Heavenly. You'll be begging me for it, before this night is through," promised Draco. His grey eyes sparkled with desire.

Harry put on his most obvious play-acting voice. "I'll never beg a Slytherin for anything!"

"You'll change your mind, Gryffindor," Draco purred. Very gently and ticklishly, he trailed his hands all over Harry's body. Caught between laughing and moaning, Harry writhed under his touch. He was growing hard. "Gryffindors are so EASY," sighed Draco pityingly, looking at the evidence of Harry's desire.

"How dare you!" said Harry in mock outrage.

In response, Draco blew a thin, cool stream of air onto Harry's right nipple. It felt incredible. Harry stifled an embarrassing yelp and shivered involuntarily from head to toe.

"You're so easy, I don't even have to touch you," Draco smirked, watching the nipple contract.

"You wouldn't DARE do that again," sneered Harry, but he must have looked too hopeful, because Draco's smirk broadened.

"You don't fool me, Potter. You WANT me to do it. Why don't you just come clean and beg?"

"Never! I'd never beg you to ... do that again," said Harry. Draco blew sensually on his other nipple and he shuddered. "Or do that to my neck," he suggested. This time, Draco leaned in close, and with a wide-open mouth breathed hotly on the side of Harry's neck. Harry moaned aloud and tried to press himself against Draco's lips. But the Slytherin sat up. "I'd never beg you to kiss me," Harry insisted. He was starting to perspire.

Draco lay down, resting his head on one hand, his lips just out of reach. "Never?" he asked coyly.

Harry strained against his bonds, but the leather held him fast. "All right, I WOULD beg you to kiss me."

"You're a push over, Potter! Let me hear you!"

"Kiss me, Malfoy ... please?"

Draco rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"Pretty please?"

Draco shook his head again.

Harry decided to go right over the top. "I beg you, Malfoy! Please, please, please kiss me! I love you, I want you, I need you! If you don't kiss me RIGHT THIS MINUTE I'll die!"

"Tolerable Potter. I'd give that a seven out of ten for begging-"

"KISS ME!" Harry was really begging.

Draco didn't say another word. He lay down on top of Harry and kissed him passionately. Their tongues duelled.

Harry tugged on the bonds holding his arms. He wanted to put his arms around Draco and he groaned in frustration, particularly when the Slytherin started kissing down his neck and along his shoulders. "Merlin! I want to touch you, Draco! You're driving me crazy ... AH!" Draco had sucked hard on his throat. "I love it when you lick my n-nipples like that!" Harry squeezed his eyes shut and made an attempt to sound more like Draco's fantasy. "The nerve of you! Sneering at Colin Creevy and accusing him of wanting to lick my boots. That's NOTHING compared to the parts of me YOU wanted to lick!" He felt Draco chuckle against his chest.

As Draco worked his way down Harry's body, the Gryffindor kept up his running commentary.

"You're driving me crazy, Potter. Now it's your turn." Draco looked deep into Harry's eyes, and trailed his tongue, in a broad, wet lick, from the base of Harry's cock right up to the head. Harry sobbed with pleasure. But he stopped when he saw Draco reaching for his wand.

"You're going to-?" Harry asked breathlessly.

"Yes. The preparation spell, Harry. I mean Potter. Are you ready?"

Harry nodded bravely.

Draco smiled. "It won't hurt," he promised and aimed the silvery spell at his lover.

Oddly enough, it didn't hurt. But Harry still gasped. Suddenly, he felt slick and empty inside. He was more desperate than ever to be touched and didn't feel the slightest qualm, when Draco slipped a finger gently inside him. "That feels ... weird," said Harry.

"Only weird? I'll have to work on that." Draco lifted Harry's cock with his other hand, and licked the head, and then he sucked it deep into his mouth.

The twin sensations drove Harry wild. The creature in his chest was more than growling now, it was roaring. He lost control, when Draco slipped a second finger inside him, and then a third. Something was being touched, deep inside him, which sent lightning bolts of pleasure through his body. He pushed down on his lover's fingers, swore loudly and came harder than he ever had before.

When Harry opened his eyes, Draco was sitting up and tearing his clothes off. Harry stared at him hungrily but Draco seemed a little nervous and concerned.

"W-Want me to untie you? This is your first time."

"Don't get fluffy on me, Malfoy! Give it to me! Make me beg!"

Despite Harry's aggression, Draco entered him very gently, watching his face for signs of pain. It did burn, but when Draco reached that special spot he'd found with his fingers, heat and pleasure filled Harry's whole body like magic, and he closed his eyes. He felt Draco lie down on top of him and lifted his head, to kiss his face, his lips, every part of him he could reach. They moved together. Harry's cock, sandwiched between their stomachs, grew hard again and Draco wrapped his fingers around it, as though he'd read his lover's mind.

Harry knew he was going to come again, mere minutes after the previous time. Draco was thrusting harder and faster and Harry couldn't hold back any more. He came on his stomach, and felt Draco reach his climax deep inside.

Panting, Draco touched his wand and Harry felt the bonds around his wrists and ankles loosen. He took the opportunity to drape himself around Draco, who had collapsed on top of him. "I love you," Harry whispered into his lover's perfect, pale shell of an ear.

"I love you too. You're mine, Harry. Best present I ever got and I've gotten loads of presents."

Though Draco seemed utterly happy and satisfied, Harry still mused about the Vow. A few minutes later, when they'd caught their breath, he asked: "Does it bother you that you'll never be able to choose someone else?"

Draco lifted his head. "NO! By some magic, I'm teamed for life with the most loving, faithful, funny, forgiving, brilliant, gorgeous, famous, and rich wizard in the world. I couldn't have chosen better myself." He was boasting and Harry was delighted. He snuggled closer and stroked Draco's back.

"Hermione says relationships are hard work. None of mine have ever worked out before, and this HAS to work."

"I don't doubt there will be challenges every day, Harry. But we'll face them as they come."

Harry stroked his hair, watched the flying windmill floating through the sky, and a great hope filled his heart. It was seemingly impossible Draco could stay in love and defeat the Vow. But seemingly impossible things were happening every day. If school rivals could fall in love, if tiny house elves could capture every Dark Wizard in Britain, if Tonks could fall in love with Lupin, and marry him, despite the fact he was a murderous beast for a good fraction of each month, if not just his father but Snape could risk their lives for the sake of his mother, Harry thought that the Vow could truly be held at bay forever, by the most powerful magic of all. Love.

There was a knock on the door.

Draco had been half asleep on Harry's shoulder, but he woke up with a start. "Who could that be?"

"I'll go and see." Feeling more relaxed than he'd ever felt before, Harry picked up a pair of boxer shorts from the floor and put them on. There was nothing to worry about. All the Death Eaters were captured. Voldemort was dead. Harry opened the door.

An explosion of camera flashes blinded him and many voices shouted questions at once. When Harry's eyes worked again, he saw at least twenty journalists, including Rita Skeeter and her photographer, pushing and fighting each other outside.

Tom was there too, shouting abuse at the invaders. "I'm sorry, Mr Potter," he said. "They broke my front door down! Get out!" Now he was addressing the journalists. "Get out, the lot of you!"

Rita Skeeter clawed at the eyes of another journalist with her long, painted talons. "Celebrating your nuptials, Harry?" she beamed. "Would you like to be interviewed for the Daily Prophet?"

"No comment!" Harry shouted. He slammed the door, locked it and caught his breath in the sudden silence.

Draco sat on the bed, stunned, open-mouthed and only partially draped in the sheet. Harry felt a burst of pleasure at seeing him, and wondered at the way having the Slytherin around made even a terrible situation like this better. Abruptly, he began to laugh.

"Have you lost your mind, Harry?"

"No, I've just realised how much I love you. If I'm to be photographed half naked at 3am, there's still no one I'd rather experience it with than you."

"You are really, really overtired, Harry."

Harry rubbed his face ruefully. "That too. Let's go back to the Headquarters. We're never going to get any sleep here. Love you, Draco."

"I love you too, Harry. But for Merlin's sake, get some clothes on!"

oOoOoOo

_**Author's Notes:** Not, The Bodyguard isn't finished yet. There are a few loose ends that need to be tied up, including Snape's fame, and Umbridge's long promised, horrible death. ;-)_

_ Gay marriage is legal in Britain now, but it wasn't in 2000, when this fanfic would have taken place._

_ The title of this chapter is from Feel Good Inc. by the Gorillaz, and the windmill is from the music video._

_ **Replies to reviews:**_

_ Thank you to the following people for reviewing: GreenEyedCatDragon, enlightenment, leslie, Kichiko, Yellowwolf, Karaii, Norwegian MoonShadow, WhiteDragonHawke, telleo, fanfiction69, Wings of Pheonix Fire, Morrigan, rekahneko, YukaYuka, namkrowa91, Crowley Black, SoraIsRikus, shadowama, Argo, dynonugget, LunaSky, lil kitsunse, cyiusblack, Fmh, NinjaoftheDarkness, pltzchen, Kittendragon, mysoulmate, keske, Gryffindorgrl86, mon-ami-runa, inu-youkai 911, Emu Alive and Kicking, oli, Chocola Emo Shizzle, Riku-Rocks, thrnbrooke, Fred kissed George, Potter's Wifey, Shadow, Moyima, RavenclawBest, Muchacha, Avalene and talon81._

_ Kit turned Mighty: Thank you for coming back and reviewing! _

_ ProperT: Yes, I saw the Order of the Phoenix movie - with six Slytherin students and a very convincing Severus Snape (with carefully cultivated greasy black hair and lots of buttons on his robes). It was surreal. I've never had anything to do with the cosplay scene before (I wasn't in costume) but it was amusing seeing how people reacted. Everything from "Snape is sexy!" to "Noooo! Slytherins are evil! Stay back!"_

_ Akki-the-Insane: Wow! Thanks for telling your friends about The Bodyguard! And thanks for your lovely review! ;-)_

_ CatWriter: Harry's a very modest man, and his experiences with the press have all been ghastly, so he tends to avoid it. But you're right that he needs to learn how to handle his fame, and who better to teach him than an ambitious Slytherin like Draco? Draco will be a better PR teacher than Snape, for reasons that will become clear in the epilogue! _


	38. Epilogue: The Deathly Shag

**The Bodyguard**

** Epilogue: The Deathly Shag**

It was ten o'clock in the morning, in the attic bedroom at the Headquarters. Cocooned in contentment, Harry lay in bed, with Draco in his arms. The world and its problems seemed a million miles away and Harry was in no hurry to go back. 

"Let's stay here in bed until ... oh, tomorrow? Maybe the day after...?" he suggested, caressing Draco's naked back.

Half-asleep, Draco smiled against Harry's shoulder and didn't open his eyes. "Sounds perfect," he murmured.

Harry nuzzled Draco's ear and closed his eyes...

...but immediately opened them again. Something was fluttering against the round window.

Talons scratching, Hedwig landed on the windowsill. She carried a small parcel and a letter. Harry stared at his mail with dread. The world was already invading his bedroom paradise.

"Sorry Hedwig, take them back. I'm not getting up today."

Hedwig's eyes widened, and she pecked on the window, indicating that her message was important, and she was quite capable of smashing her way through to make her delivery.

Groaning and muttering about pushy owls, Harry untangled himself from Draco's arms and hauled himself out of bed. The only compensation for getting up was the way Draco stared hungrily at his naked body, as he opened the window.

Hedwig hopped inside, and raised her leg to let Harry untie his mail. Then she flew to her perch and started investigating her food dish.

Harry closed the window and threw the newspaper and letter down on the bed. He climbed back under the covers and opened the letter, while Draco tore open the parcel.

The letter was short and written by Hermione.

_Dear Harry,_

_Even though I know you don't read the Daily Prophet, and I know most of our friends (like Neville) don't read it either, I thought you and Draco should see this._

_I can't believe that Skeeter woman. Ron has been swearing about her all morning._

_If you two want any help, just send Prongs and we'll come running._

_Love,_

_Hermione and Ron._

Just as Harry finished the letter, Draco got the parcel open, took one look at the copy of the Daily Prophet inside and moaned. 

Feeling a cold bolt of dread go through his stomach, Harry asked: "What?"

Draco handed him the newspaper, without a word.

A moving photo of a mortified Harry, answering the door wearing nothing but boxer shorts, dominated the front page. In the background, Draco sat up in bed, naked but for a scrap of sheet. The leather straps attached to the bedposts were extremely visible. Then photo Harry mouthed 'No comment!' and slammed the door. The scene replayed over and over.

The headline screamed: _Sex Scandal! Gay Potter Bondage Outrage In Leaky Cauldron_.

Harry stared in incredulous horror. "Voldemort's DEAD! How come my sex life's on the front page?" 

"Sex will ALWAYS trump violence in a British newspaper," said Draco, as though it were obvious.

"Listen to this," said Harry. "_Boy Who Lived Now Man Who Is Queer, pages two to four, Double Wedding For Heroes, pages five to sixteen, The Chosen Gay: Potter's Death Eater Boyfriend, pages seventeen to eighteen, Potter Always Seemed A Bit Limp-Wristed To Me Says Minister, pages nineteen to twenty, Potter Says 'No Comment!', pages twenty-one to twenty-two, Lucius Malfoy To Be Freed, page twenty-three, Umbridge Missing, page twenty-four, Voldemort Vanquished, All Death Eaters Captured, see small article on page twenty-five, The True Chosen One Comes Forward, see two line article on page twenty-six._" He threw down the newspaper. "This is ridiculous!"

"All except Father being freed," said Draco. "That was fast work. I only sent the letter to Scrimgeour last night." He saw the look on Harry's face and his lips twitched. "The real scandal is what passes for accurate journalism in the Daily Prophet. Rita Skeeter thought YOU tied ME up! How could she get it so wrong?" Draco chuckled miserably and smoothed his white-blond hair back. 

"I thought you said the magic world wasn't homophobic?" said Harry.

"It's not but Rita Skeeter is," said Draco. "Anything for a scoop."

"So much for the Daily Prophet leaving me alone, because I'm not the Chosen One." A horrible thought struck Harry. "Severus must be FURIOUS. I've stolen his publicity again!"

"He'll be furious," Draco confirmed, with a sigh.

"I don't want him as my enemy. Not any more. My mother loved him and I was just starting to like him. I can't believe this..." Harry stared at the Daily Prophet again and groaned. "Bloody Rita Skeeter! Just when the greasy git and I were starting to get on and all..."

"The magical world is shallow. They want their good wizards to LOOK like good wizards. Severus looks like a very Dark wizard indeed," said Draco, rubbing his chin and frowning.

"That's why con-wizards like Gilderoy Lockhart prosper," muttered Harry. "All a Dark wizard has to do is put curlers in his hair and wear lilac, and suddenly everyone thinks he's good!"

Draco snapped his fingers. "Harry, you're a genius! I know how we can help Severu!"

"How?"

Draco's eyes sparkled with fervour. "It will be risky, Harry. Severus won't like it ... at first ... but it will give him the attention he deserves in the long run. We have to give him - a makeover!"

Harry choked.

"Yes," Draco went on, ignoring the way Harry was looking at him as though he'd gone insane. "Severus needs to wash his hair and get a proper haircut. I don't care if he thinks the grease can't be washed out. I'll send him to MY hairdresser. She'll fix his hair if it's the last thing she ever does." He took a deep breath. "Then he'll need some new clothes. Black and billowy is far too intimidating. Pink will bring out the colour in his cheeks. The editor at Witch Weekly likes seeing wizards in bright colours."

Harry's jaw dropped, but Draco continued dreamily: "He can go to Madam Pomphrey and get his teeth whitened and straightened too."

Harry imagined Severus Snape with very white teeth, like Gilderoy Lockhart, the light shining off them - TING! He shuddered. "Draco, there are some things you can't say to Severus Snape and expect to live." He was only half-joking. "Those things include telling him to wash his hair and wear pink!"

"You're quite right, Harry," said Draco. "I'm going to need backup, in case Severus goes ballistic. I'll invite him to lunch, here at the Headquarters, and I'll invite Hermione and Ron too. We'll get Severus looking like a good wizard, then we'll go to a few journalists I know. Friends of Father. They always write what they're told. The magical world must be gagging for news about the true Chosen One. If they're not, we'll make certain that they are."

The confident way Draco talked about manipulating Snape's image and the media amused Harry very much. But he had to err on the side of caution. "I'll invite the WHOLE Order to lunch," he said. "I'll tell them you'll be Charming Firewhiskey again. Mad-Eye Moody will come running ... well, limping. With EVERYONE here, you might just survive telling Severus to get his teeth straightened."

"Come on, Harry. Severus isn't that bad. Once he's gotten over ... the shock ... he'll think it's a good idea to stop looking like a Dark wizard. He knows the Malfoys have always been good at that sort of thing."

"I just want to keep you safe, Draco. You're very precious to me."

Draco beamed. "I love it when you think like a bodyguard," he said, enfolding Harry in a loving, naked hug. "But don't you remember that's MY job?"

oOoOoOo

_Found - Enormous, Fat, Pink Toad._

_Answers To The Name Of Dolores._

Neville put his quill down, and looked down at the sign he'd just written. He winced when he heard his grandmother coming up behind him. 

"You've found a toad, Neville?" she asked, reading the sign over his shoulder.

"Yes, Gran. Trevor's new girlfriend. He found her at Hogwarts and he wouldn't let her go, so I took her home. I thought she must belong to a student there, so I was going to go back to Hogwarts and stick up this sign. Someone must be missing her."

"No one will be missing her. There are no students at Hogwarts, Neville. The summer holidays are on."

"Oh," said Neville. "I forgot."

"She must be a wild toad that's wandered in from the outside, so that means she's all yours Neville. Let me see her."

Neville pulled both toads out of his pocket. The female toad was a sickly, unflattering shade of pink. She gulped and made yet another attempt to escape Trevor, who was attached to her back and shagging away.

"Trevor's a horny toad, Gran," Neville joked. His grin faded when he saw his grandmother's stern expression.

"Neville Longbottom, I won't tolerate that kind of language in my house!"

"Sorry, Gran," said Neville, sadly. He'd grown used to his grandmother's lack of a sense of humour, so he didn't bother explaining that he'd named the toad Dolores because she was the spitting image of Umbridge. It was strange how the toad had learned her own name so quickly, but Neville wasn't curious enough to wonder why. He didn't know Umbridge was missing and he hadn't been conscious when Bellatrix had sent her Veritasformo spell into the hostages and changed Umbridge into a toad.

Neville's grandmother stared at the shagging toads. "Trevor really likes her."

"He likes his girlfriends far too much. That's why the vet says they only last a week," said Neville glumly. "I was hoping I could get her back to her real owner, so I could save her life."

"Now, Neville. She's only a toad, and an ugly one to boot! This is nature in action. Nature red in tooth and claw!"

"It's not Trevor's claw that's going to be red-"

"Neville!" said his grandmother warningly.

"Sorry, Gran." Neville sighed. "Maybe she'll last longer than the others?"

His grandmother gazed at the struggling female toad with the complete lack of compassion she usually reserved for Neville. "We'll see," she said.

**oOoOoOo**

** The End.**

** oOoOoOo**

_**Author's Notes ****07-19-07**__: An awful, AWFUL way to end it. But I'd promised all you Umbridge haters out there to kill her off in the nastiest way possible. It doesn't get nastier than being shagged to death by Trevor the toad. (I actually feel sorry for Umbridge. Maybe Neville will work out who the toad really is, before the week is up, and rescue her. But, maybe not... ;-)_

_ And ... that's The End. The Bodyguard is over. Thank you to everyone who beta read. I needed every bit of your help. ;-)_

_ I'll be going over The Bodyguard in the next day, before Deathly Hallows comes out, and tidying up any problems I see. I'll be replacing my "Silver Beech - Silver Bitch joke" in Chapter 16 -_

Harry stared curiously at Draco's wand.

"What's your wand made of?" he asked.

Draco told him. Harry was certain Draco had answered, "Unicorn tail hair and silver bitch," and he completely lost it for a moment, hugging his legs and screaming with laughter until tears rose in his eyes. "Silver bitch? That's perfect! How very appropriate!" he cackled, panting for breath.

"Not bitch. BEECH, Harry. Silver BEECH," grumbled Draco. He muttered in annoyance, "One sniff of the barmaid's apron and you go deaf!"

_ - with Draco's recently announced, canon wand wood: hawthorn. A wood representing - get this - love. (I hope that means Draco will change sides in Deathly Hallows. But if he doesn't, we've always got fanfic.)_

_ The feedback I've received for The Bodyguard has been absolutely incredible and I can't thank you all enough. As of the 20th July 2007, there have been 1251 reviews, 296 favs, 509 people signed up for story alerts, and 52 C2S have included The Bodyguard. It won Quill to Parchment Best Trio Era runner up fanfic. All this in only 9 months. What a wonderful gestation! ;-)_

_ With so much positive feedback, the next novel I write will be an original work, and I'll try to get it published as a book. Contact me if you're interested in knowing more. (I'm already missing the instant feedback of publishing online!)_

_ Thanks again for making writing The Bodyguard so much fun! _

_ Regards,_

_ Luuuurve_

_ P.S. Last chance to review, people. That's all there is! There ain't no more! ;-)_

_ P.S.S. I can't believe it's all over! I feel sad now!_

_ **Replies to reviews:**_

_ Many thanks to the following people for reviewing: Very evil daughter of Lord ..., piuk, Aisling-Siobhan, RavenclawBest, Norwegian MoonShadow, telleo, tiarakiyoshi, Gryffindorgrl86, princess2000204, Potter's Wifey, namkrowa91, hyperactivatoragain, inu-youkai 911, RRW, ProperT, rekahneko, Crowley Black, GenX-Revolution, keske, Moyima, Emu Alive and Kicking, bellajen94, draconian snowangel216, cyiusblack, Yellowwolf, Jester08, thrnbrooke, WhiteDragonHawke, Fmh, pltzchen, lil kitsunse, SoraIsRikus, NinjaoftheDarkness, and dynonugget._

_ Anissina June: Why didn't Harry cover up a bit more when he answered the door? Well, it was very late, he was tired, and he'd just had an amazing shag. Voldemort was dead, all the Death Eaters were captured. He thought there wasn't another person left who could hurt him, so he went to the door in his boxers and without a wand. Boy, was he surprised! ;-) _


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